A Hero Among Thieves
by FanNotANerd
Summary: Some say there is no honour among thieves. Some say they are the lowest of the low, parasites who feast off civilized society. But in Hyrule's darkest hour, a hero will rise from where no hero has risen before. And let the fulfillment of legend begin...
1. Awakening

**This particular work isn't set in any specific game. I felt like putting my writing skills to the ultimate test and writing a complete, original plotline.**

**I'm actually debating over if I should rate it M or T, mainly because it contains graphic violence, minor sexual themes, multiple character deaths, and severe angsty stuff.**

**Oh yeah, and I had no idea what genre it was, so I just gave it a generic Adventure/Romance thing.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own LoZ. All rights go to Nintendo.**

A gentle breeze blew in the otherwise still morning air. It slowly blew away the mist over Lake Hylia, rendering the lake cerulean once more, tinged slightly pink by the breaking dawn. The breeze whistled past several small lakefront dwellings, the wind chimes outside making a slight tinkling noise as they swayed back and forth. It continued to swirl over Lake Hylia, rippling the lake's waters. The reflection of the sunrise in the waters distorted slightly as the originally smooth water formed itself into small waves.

Nobody noticed this. Nobody was even awake yet. Nobody was able to take a small sense of childlike wonder from this small event, so insignificant in the making, but with such a wondrous effect. The wind continued, gently setting the branches in a nearby tree to swaying. A blackbird, awakened by the unexpected motion, shifted its wings and sang out a brief group of notes. Its song echoed across the otherwise silent lake, the last ripples fading as the wind's strength waned.

The breeze, barely more than a whisper now, drifted over a small field. A mare grazing in the field nickered quietly and tossed her mane as the wind flicked invisible fingers across her face. The breeze drifted between the shutters of the nearby house, still damp with the mist of the lake. Just before it faded, it gently caressed the cheek of the boy sleeping inside. At a guess, he appeared to be in his late teen years, possibly seventeen.

The house was a rather simple affair. There was no evidence that anyone else lived there, its rather amateur construction suggesting that it was the work of the boy sleeping in the bed. The house was very Spartan, boasting the bare essentials. No artwork adorned the walls, the walls and floors were left as bare wood, the furniture kept to a minimum. The only personal touch was a single bright red feather, preserved between expensive glass plates, which heralded the front door. On a small rack hung a handmade saddle and tack, presumably for the horse outside. A nameplate on the bridle read: "Epona".

Apart for these, the house was rather sparse. A sheathed belt knife lay on the kitchen table, beside a small wallet. A small fireplace lay unlit, its heat unneeded in the summer months. After sweeping through the house, the last breath of the wind sighed through the wooden wind chimes hanging outside the window. Swaying oh so gently, the wooden tubes knocked against each other, producing a hollow _clunk_.

The sound awoke the boy. His eyes opened, revealing intensely blue eyes, a pass between the deepest ice and the purest cobalt. His eyes focused, registered the light just beginning to slant into the bedroom. For a moment, he was content to simply watch the light, trace the path of the golden dust motes that drifted through it. But, like all dreams, the dream of the dawn must end. Hoisting himself out of bed, the boy opened the shutters, allowing the newborn light of the dawn to stream into the room. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.

He filled his lungs with the fresh morning air, registering the sweet smell of the clover on the breeze, the air still damp from the night's dew. He opened his eyes and sighed gently, watching a chickadee land on a branch. The tiny bird plucked a seed from the tree, chirped, and flitted away. Turning away from the window, the boy filled a basin with cold, clear water from the well, splashing some over his face. Morning ablutions complete, he proceeded into the kitchen, lighting the stove.

He made a simple breakfast of wheat porridge, lightly flavoured with a small amount of cinnamon brought from the south. He sat back, satisfied, and stretched, finishing with a wide yawn very much like a cat's. Donning a plain brown robe, he picked the belt knife off the table and slid it up his sleeve, where it joined the seven other knives hidden on his person.

He grabbed the saddle, slinging it over his shoulder in a practiced motion, calling the mare with a whistled, three-note descending sequence. The horse trotted to his side, clover forgotten, looking at him expectantly. Scratching her under the forelock, he swung the saddle onto her back, and quickly vaulted on. Spurring her into a gallop, he directed her toward one of the main roads to Castle Town. The early hour didn't really matter to him. In fact, he liked it better.

After all, a bandit must always be on top of things.


	2. Life of a thief

The boy and his horse rode out into Hyrule Field. He brought the horse to a halt near the road, finding a grassy knoll to hide her by. The horse, used to this, calmly settled down where the boy instructed her to, chewing thoughtfully on whatever grass was within reach. Unsheathing the belt knife, the boy began to whittle a stick as he waited for someone to ride past, patting the other knives up his sleeves for reassurance.

Hours passed. Thankfully, the boy was patient. He had learned that valuable skill years ago. Finally, he was rewarded by the sight of a wagon in the distance. The wagon approached, the driver cursing a pair of oxen that seemed to want to do anything other than pull a wagon. The boy waited until they were close enough to touch, then walked out from behind the hill. "Ho, travelers!" he called.

The wagon stopped, the driver staring at the boy quizzically. Loosening the throwing knives up his sleeves, the boy ambled up to the wagon, plastering a cheery grin on his face. "You wouldn't happen to know how to get to Lake Hylia from here, would you?" he asked.

The driver shrugged. "Ask the guy in the back," he said. "I'm just the driver. He tells me where to go."

The boy found it somewhat odd that a driver would not know directions, but thought nothing of it. He was going to rob the people in the cab anyway. He approached the cab of the wagon, idly rotating a hand. "Hey," he said, approaching the curtained window. "The driver told me to-"

He was cut off as the curtain was flung open, the man inside leaning out. The boy gulped as he found himself staring at a hunting arrow, pulled to full draw, aimed right between his eyes. "Throw me your wallet and I'll tell you," the man with the bow growled.

The boy blinked in disbelief. Here he was, attempting to rob someone, and now he was getting robbed himself! Irritated, he grunted, flicking his wrist. A small knife sped from his hand, cutting through the bowstring and shearing off a lock of the bowman's hair, burying itself in the wooden planks of the roof. The boy twisted his hands, a pair of wicked ten-inch knives appearing in them.

"Robbing me would be a bad idea," he snarled.

The man's eyes narrowed, and he slowly began to get out of the wagon. The boy tensed his muscles, knowing he would try something. With a wild cry, the man grabbed a broadsword from somewhere in the wagon, charging at the boy while swinging it wildly. The boy calmly ducked under his swing, dodging past his side. As he went, his left knife flashed out, cutting the man's purse, then disappeared inside his sleeve. He smiled in satisfaction as Rupees poured into his palm. He quickly stowed them in his pocket, redrawing the knife.

All this happened in roughly a second. The man turned, swinging again, not noticing his purse had been cut. Link dodged back from the blow, trying to find a chance to withdraw. The man wouldn't give him one. He swung his sword again, catching the boy off guard and opening a shallow gash on his forearm. The man, seeing his prey wounded, went in for the kill. Desperate, the boy flung both his knives at the man, who abruptly stopped.

One knife buried itself in the man's throat, the other in his right eye. Both penetrated far enough to be fatal. The man choked, swayed, and collapsed, blood pooling beneath him. The boy walked forward, retrieving his blades and wiping them clean on the dead man's cloak. He was not proud of his death, but there was no other option. He took comfort in the fact that this man was also a robber, and not an innocent victim.

Although he was a road bandit, the boy possessed a strict moral code. He always tried to avoid fatalities whenever possible, generally cutting the victim's purse and escaping, seeming to flee. It would only be later that the victims would notice their loss. Rupees could be replaced, but not lives.

He was certainly much more refined than many bandits, who simply pincushioned a wagon with arrows, then searched the corpses. The boy always tried to keep a low-to-nonexistent body count. He generally succeeded. There was always the odd person who tried to do something stupid, who couldn't be easily dissuaded. They usually ended up dead.

Sighing, the boy walked over to the driver, who was visibly shaking. He nervously eyed the boy's knives, relaxing once he sheathed them. The boy gestured toward the dead man lying by the road. "It would seem you need a new partner," he said, mounting Epona. "I advise one with planning skills."

With that, he rode off toward Castle Town. On the way, he decided to check on his take. Upon seeing the loot, his eyes widened. Clearly, this thief was well-off. Most of the Rupees were red or purple. Three orange ones even winked at him from the pile. The boy estimated the total at just under one thousand Rupees.

He decided to spend the night in style. He could certainly afford it, now. He walked the horse into Castle Town, passing the reins to a stableboy. After giving him some instruction on how to treat the horse, he pressed a blue Rupee into his hand. That done, he entered the bank, depositing all but three hundred Rupees. The teller gave him a voucher that Link carefully placed in his wallet, to join several others. The voucher would allow him to withdraw the funds at any bank in Hyrule. Not that there were many banks. However, the vouchers were as good as cash to many stores, seeing as nobody was able to forge them.

He treated himself to a hearty meal, spending the rest of the day taking in the sights and sounds of Hyrule's capital. Flipping a green Rupee toward a street performer, he idly noticed that the service personnel were beginning to light torches. He glanced up, noting the late hour, and decided to find somewhere to spend the night. He rented a room in the snobbiest hotel in Castle Town.

_Wonder if keeping their noses so high gives them back problems…_ the boy mused while sipping a glass of fine wine. He sighed, stretching, and sinking back into the overstuffed chair in the lounge. _I could get used to this…_ he thought, drifting off.

He was just about to fall asleep when one of the bellhops cleared his throat. Link looked up. It was clear that the staff were suspicious of him, because of his rough, practical clothing, but the jingling of Rupees in his pocket soon quieted them. "Pardon me sir," the bellhop droned. "But your room is ready."

The boy followed the bellhop to his room, tipping him smartly. Just before the boy entered his room, the bellhop bowed slightly, handing him the room key. "Enjoy your stay, Master Link."


	3. In the Firelight

Link awoke quickly, confused. He glanced around, unsure of his surroundings. Expensive tapestries, antique vases, a large brick fireplace…Okay, now he was lost. He shook his head as he remembered: this was a hotel. He was, for the moment at least, rich. He looked into his wallet, slightly perturbed that there were only about eighty Rupees left. He would have to watch his spending if he wanted to make it last, but he would allow himself that one day of decadence.

Link sighed, pulling his boots on and patting the knives up his sleeves. The life of a thief was…hectic. It was difficult to tell where you might end up. At least he had his home, that one slice of life that was constant, unchanging. Many thieves were nomads, traveling wherever their will took them. It was no way to live, but, seeing as Link's parents were dead, it was the only way he could find.

Link sighed, pushing aside the wave of grief that came every time he thought of his parents. It had been five years since the slavers took them from him forever, yet it still hurt like yesterday. Gazing out the window, Link watched the crowd of people milling around Castle Town's main square. How busy they were, always looking for something else to do. They had a family to come home to, friends to greet in the streets, yet they never stopped to appreciate it. A chill gripped Link as he realized that he could be surrounded by people, but still be alone.

Shaking off his morbid thoughts, he checked out and left the hotel. He found Epona in the stables, seated in a bed of hay. Sensing his dark mood, she nickered, nudging his hand with her nose. He sighed, rubbing her nose. His was not a problem she could fix. He smiled sadly, gazing into her eyes.

"What a cruel hand fate has dealt you," he mused. "You are faultless. You've never wronged me, nor anyone else. And yet, you are forced to be with the lowest of the low, a thief, a bandit, a common highwayman."

He cleared his head, focusing on the here and now. He had to put the ghosts of the past behind him, and focus on survival. "Shall we ride?" he asked the horse.

In response, she stood up, whinnying and tossing her mane. "That's my girl," Link said, throwing his saddle over her back. Just before exiting the city, he stopped by a clothing store, purchasing a plain black cloak to replace his torn and bloodstained brown one. The black cloak would serve two purposes: One, thieves were less likely to rob someone in plain clothes, and two, he would be able to blend in with the night more easily.

He reached the gates of Castle Town just as the guards began to lower the drawbridge. One of them nodded to him as he passed by, another saluting him with his sword. Link inclined his head in return, slowly walking his horse past the guards. Choosing a direction at random, he rode into the sun. It didn't matter where he ended up. He was, after all, a thief. Destination didn't matter; only the actions.

_**Later…**_

Link slowed the horse down, noting the height of the sun above the horizon. It was nearing twilight. Link began to look for a spot to spend the night. The soft glow of firelight caught his eye, about a league down the road. He rode towards that, hoping some travelers would be willing to share their fire.

As Link approached, however, his guard went up. Something wasn't right. He stopped the horse, dismounting a good distance from the fire, and the destroyed wagon that lay a few meters away. Epona stayed silent, knowing it was essential. He loosened a pair of his knives in their sheaths, looking around with a wary eye. He lengthened his stride as a scream split the night, then broke into a run.

The girl screamed as the thugs advanced on her. Her driver lay bleeding in the dirt, three arrows in his chest. The closest one, sporting a gold hoop through his ear, stopped and grinned at her. "Well, look at this!" he exclaimed.

Gold-hoop leaned down, his stinking breath washing over the girl's face. "What's a girl like you doing in this country alone?"

Rage blossomed in the girl. "I wasn't alone!" she spat. "You killed my escort!"

"Oh, did we?" Gold-hoop said in mock concern. "That's a shame."

Two other bandits, a huge one that resembled a tree, and a small weasel-faced man, moved behind their leader.

"Well, I don't know, but we could be your escorts," Tree-trunk said, grinning evilly.

"Of course, our…prices…are steep," Weasel-face sneered.

The girl recoiled, her eyes wide. Gold-hoop moved forward, grabbing her wrist. "Now, you're a pretty girl," he said, leering. I'm sure we can work something out."

"Let go of me," she said, her tone low and dangerous.

"Oh, what're you gonna do, huh? Kick me in the shin?" Gold-hoop laughed.

In response, she kicked him in the groin. His face went a peculiar shade of green, and he sank to his knees, holding his crotch. For a moment, he seemed to be unable to breathe. Then, he sucked in a breath.

"AAAAHHH!" he screamed. "My fuckin' balls!"

The girl surveyed him dispassionately, knowing she would regret that. For the moment, however, she was content to watch him squirm.

He recovered faster than she expected.

Before she could even blink, he had grabbed her throat. Looking her square in the eye, he casually began to squeeze. The girl gasped and choked as her air was cut off, kicking madly at his legs. Finally, in a last, desperate attempt, she clawed at his face, her nails leaving four bloody furrows down his cheek. Almost immediately, blood began to seep out of them, crimson tears running down his face.

Crying out, he threw her to the ground, clapping a hand to his face. "You bitch," he said. "I'm gonna mess you up."

He lashed out with a fist, striking her on the cheekbone and knocking her to the ground. "Boss," Weasel-face protested.

Gold-hoop silenced him with an outstretched hand. "She fucked up my face. Someone's gotta pay for that."

Seeing as the girl had started to get up, he hit her again, sending her to the ground where she belonged.

Link sprinted into the circle of firelight, taking in the situation in an instant. The driver was gone, having coughed out his last some time ago. But the girl was still alive. Thankfully. Though, from the looks of things, she wasn't going to be for much longer.

He didn't think, just reacted. He flicked his hands toward the man beating on the girl, a pair of throwing knives speeding toward his unprotected back.

Roaring in rage, Gold-hoop slammed the girl's head into the ground. Her vision lost focus for an instant, stars flickering across her eyes. He pulled away, instilling some sense of relief.

That was short-lived, as she heard the unmistakable sound of a knife being unsheathed. A moment later, the blade was against her throat. "Now," Gold-hoop growled. "You gonna cooperate?"

The girl defiantly spat a stream of blood into his face. "Wrong answer," he growled, drawing back…

A slight grunt caught her attention. She looked up, to see Gold-hoop staring at nothing, a rictus of pain on his face. He collapsed, the hilts of a pair of throwing knives jutting from his back.

Her mind swam with confusion for a moment. _How…_ she thought weakly.

The main threat gone, Link switched his attention to the other two bandits. They had drawn knives, eying him warily. Light flashed off steel as Link flung his other throwing knives at Tree-trunk, the well-oiled steel penetrating his ribcage and lodging in his heart. Weasel-face shrank against the wagon, wailing pitifully as Link twisted his hands, the ten-inch combat knives appearing in them.

Link smiled ruefully as he realized what he must look like. Appearing like a ghost, clad in a black robe, sporting a pair of bone-handled knives, he must look like some sort of avenging demon. Weasel-face sank to his knees, supplicating palms outstretched. "Spare me…"

Link regarded him coldly. Pitiful as he was, he was the sort of thief Link despised. Cowardly, stupid, and utterly heartless. Link had no patience for his kind. Twin blades flashed, and Weasel-face's head lolled forward, eyes wide and glazed, blood streaming from the second mouth gaping in his throat.

Cleaning his knives, Link stowed them back up his sleeves, sliding them into their respective sheaths. He returned to the girl, retrieving his throwing knives as he went. The girl was sitting with her back to the fire in the fetal position, staring at Tree-trunk's body.

Bright red arterial blood had pooled around Tree-trunk's body, soaking the dirt until it appeared black. Link gently laid a hand on the girl's shoulder. She was shaking. He turned her away from the dead man, sitting her at the roots of a tree. "Stay right here," he instructed. "I'll be right back."

Her head snapped up, primal terror in her eyes. "I'll be right back," Link repeated. Moving back toward the camp, he looked around warily. Gold-hoop was nowhere to be seen. He must have slipped away in the confusion.

_He can't have gotten far,_ Link thought, scanning the campsite. A noise from inside the wagon drew his attention. Entering the ruins, he drew the bone-handled knives, ready for anything. Gold-hoop was lying on the floor, breathing raggedly, blood pooling beneath him. He was fumbling with a lantern and some odd, round objects.

Link had seen these things before. He frowned as he attempted to pace them. Terror blossomed in his breast as realization struck. They were…bombs! Gold-hoop grinned. "See you in hell," he gasped, touching the lantern flame to the fuses of the three bombs in his hands.

Without even thinking, Link ran. He sprinted back toward the fire, seeing the girl stand up as he approached. "Down!" he yelled at her.

"I don't-" she began. The time for words over, Link tackled her to the ground, shielding her with his own body. They hit the ground hard, as the fuse of the first bomb burned inside, igniting roughly ten pounds of black powder.

The bomb exploded in a thunderous blast, killing Gold-hoop instantly. An expanding sphere of flame blasted out from the bomb, the other two exploding a fraction of a second later. The triple explosion blasted the wagon to pieces, the shock wave dousing the fire and plunging the camp into darkness.

The concussion lifted Link and the girl off the ground, flinging them twenty feet away. In midair, Link shifted so that he would cushion the girl's fall. His breath left him in an audible gasp as he slammed into the ground. Link hissed in pain as he felt one, then two of his ribs crack. A flaming log struck him between the shoulder blades, burning his cloak and dislocating his shoulder.

He looked over, registering that the girl was safe, before allowing himself to black out.


	4. Sera

Link returned to consciousness slowly, as if surfacing from a great depth. As usual, he experienced some disorientation from the unfamiliar surroundings, which quickly passed. He sat up, wincing from the pain of his cracked ribs. He looked down. Someone had bound them while he was asleep. _And set my shoulder while they were at it,_ he though idly, rotating the limb in question.

He took a deep breath, a twinge of pain shooting through his chest, and whistled for Epona. He thought she had bolted at the explosions, and so, was immensely surprised when she trotted to his side. He surveyed the wreckage of the wagon, watching the girl attempt to salvage something from it.

_What a sorry state Hyrule is in,_ he reflected. Thieves and bandits were everywhere. Heck, he was one of them. Things had really gone downhill after the Great War. Link shuddered at the memory. That war was what cost him his parents. A vast tribe of slavers had invaded the kingdom, their goal to enslave the entire population, and kill all those who resisted. They were defeated at a desperate last stand at Lake Hylia, but they had left a mark. In the five years since its victory, the kingdom still had not recovered.

Link shook his head, dispelling the memory. Nothing but pain lay in those. Unbidden, the memories of that terrible day rose in his head again.

_Screams, the ring of steel on steel, the smell of smoke on the air. His father's voice. "Go! Leave me! Get Link out of here!"_

_The door burst open. A tall man stood in the doorway, a curved blade in his hand. "Go!" Link's father yelled tearfully, parrying the man's attacks._

_Link's mother pushed Link along. "Run, Link. Don't stop."_

_A horrible scream from the house._

"_Don't look back, Link!"_

_He looked anyway, and immediately wished he hadn't. His father was lying on the ground, the tall man tugging his sword from his chest._

Link gasped, the memory finally retreating into the darkest corners of his mind. He heard a rustling sound at his side. He turned, head wobbling slightly, seeing the girl kneeling beside him. Seeing him awake, she smiled.

Link got his first good look at her. Her dark blond hair cascaded down her shoulders, stretching to the small of her back. Her smile was lovely, revealing almost flawless, even white teeth. Intense green eyes glittered mischievously as they stared into his own. Link estimated her to be around his age, sixteen or seventeen. Overall, she was quite pretty. She didn't quite deserve to be called "beautiful", but she was far too pretty to just be "cute".

An awkward silence followed, both parties lost for words. Link found himself idly wondering how the girl's hair would look pulled up. The girl on the other hand, blushed as she caught herself thinking about how Link looked without his shirt. Both looked away for a moment to regain their composure. The girl spoke first.

"I just wanted to say…thank you," she said a little breathlessly.

Link arched an eyebrow. "For what?" The corner of his mouth quirked in a smile.

"For saving me, idiot!" the girl replied crossly, smacking him lightly on the shoulder.

"Anyway," she continued, after taking a deep breath, "I believe introductions are in order."

"You first," Link said, his eyes never leaving her face.

"Fine. I'm Sera." Sera stared at Link expectantly. "You got a name?" she finally asked.

_Sera, _Link thought. _What a beautiful name…_

"Hello?" Link jerked himself out of his reverie, seeing Sera waving a hand in front of his face. "Anybody in there?"

"Sorry," he mumbled. "My mind was…whatever. I'm Link."

"Well, Link," Sera said, curtsying gracefully. "Thank you for your assistance last night."

Again, Link raised an eyebrow. "Assistance? Looked like help to me."

"Fine. Thank you for helping me."

"That's better," Link said, grinning. He looked at the sun. "Well, I suppose I should be on my way."

He began to get up, but Sera pushed him back down. "You're not going anywhere," she said. "You have two cracked ribs and one broken. I don't think you're in any state to go anywhere."

Link gave her a dry look. "Well, I can at least get up."

He got to his feet cautiously, mindful of his ribs. There was a slight twinge of pain, but Sera had bound them well. He stood up and stretched, feeling the vertebrae in his back crack and pop as they snapped into alignment. He sighed, scratching Peon's forehead.

"By the way,"

Link turned to face Sera, who was fidgeting awkwardly. "Could you…teach me that…that knife trick?"

"You mean this?" Link asked casually. He flicked his wrist, and a mid-size dagger appeared in his hand. Twirling it through his fingers, he made it disappear in a blur of steel.

Sera frowned. "Yes, that."

Link chuckled, shaking his head. "That little trick took me years to master. What makes _you_ think I could teach you in a couple minutes?"

Sera's glare could have melted steel. "You could at least tell me how you do it."

Link shrugged, rolling up his left sleeve. A cleverly made bracelet adorned his wrist. Several leather hoops ringed the edges, through which were the sheaths of four knives. Two were light throwing knives, the third the twin to the dagger Link had drawn earlier, the last one of his bone-handled knives. Link rolled up his other sleeve to display an identical contraption on his right wrist.

"Watch carefully," Link said. He slowed down the motions he usually went through to draw a blade. First, he rotated his hand, loosening one of the knives in its sheath. Then, he jerked his hand forward, flinging a throwing knife out of its sheath, the hilt smacking into his waiting palm. He held up the knife for her to see, then reversed it, sliding it back into the sheath. Grinning he repeated the motion in one fluid movement at the speed he usually did it at. His hand blurred as he drew a throwing knife, flipped it so he was holding it by the blade, and threw it at the wagon.

He did it so fast that he seemed to just flick his hand toward the wagon. The knife sped through the air, embedding itself in the wood to the hilt. He turned back toward Sera, suppressing a smug grin. Instead of being awestruck, as he thought she would be, she just looked…thoughtful.

"So," he said conversationally, retrieving his knife. "How'd you end up here?"

Sera shrugged. "There's not much to tell," she said. "I'm the daughter of a rich merchant. I didn't like the life, so I bribed one of his servants, stole one of his wagons, and ran away."

She shook her head, looking at the ruins of the wagon. "I was looking for excitement. Something big and grand."

Sera blinked a tear from her eye. "I didn't want this," she whispered, her voice breaking. Link strode forward and held her as she sobbed into his shoulder. A few minutes later, she backed off, her eyes red-rimmed. "Sorry," she whispered.

"Nothing to apologize about," Link said. "I know exactly how you feel."

His face darkened, and he stared into the distance. "I know how you feel," he repeated.


	5. Beginnings

Link saddled Epona, checking her girth strap and the provisions in his saddlebags. He made sure he had at least three days of supplies at any given time. If he stretched it, he could make it last five. He glanced toward the firelight, watching Sera sew a strap onto the inside of her dress, sliding a small knife into it. She flexed her hand, confident that it would not slip out, and, after some fumbling, managed to draw it.

_At least she didn't gash herself,_ Link thought grimly. The knife she had chosen was a small kitchen knife, useless in combat. Its blade was too delicate, and would most likely get stuck after a stab. "Enough fooling around. Let's go."

Sera looked up. "To where?"

Link suppressed a groan. The girl knew _nothing._ "First of all, we find you a horse. This saddle isn't meant for riding double." He raised a hand, cutting her off. "And second, I'm going to take you to the closest town, where you can send a message to your father."

He turned away and mounted Epona. "Hop on and hang on. Grab my waist," he instructed. Sera settled herself behind Link, tentatively wrapping her arms around his waist. Link sighed. "I won't bite," he said. "Horses are anything but smooth. Hang on _tight._"

Sera complied, and Link gave the reins a flick, clucking his tongue. Epona whinnied quietly, protesting the extra weight, but trotted forward all the same. For a moment, he blushed as it occurred to him that he had a very pretty girl holding on to him, but quickly dispelled that thought. Feelings would just get in the way.

Consulting his map, Link figured out his location by referencing the North Star. The closest settlement was three leagues away. Sera had gone to sleep, head resting on is back, hands still firmly clasped around his waist. He kind of liked her. She had a bright, fiery personality that kept him guessing. While talking to her, he had revealed much more than he originally did. He rarely even told people his name, let alone his knife tricks. _What's gotten into me?_ he thought morosely.

When he met Sera, he had been so glad to talk to someone, a conversation that didn't involve "Just looking for some money. Hand it over," that he had come as close as he ever did to removing his armor. He gritted his teeth. No more. The armor was back in place. It had slipped yesterday, but it was only a small slip. He would get rid of Sera, and continue on his merry way. He would continue searching.

"Searching for what?" Sera mumbled sleepily. Link hadn't realized he was talking out loud.

"That's not for you to know," he replied.

"Oh," she said, going back to sleep.

Finally, after almost a day of riding, Link tied Epona up in Therse, a small village on the border of Eldin Province. He groaned, stretching his legs, muscles taut from long hours in the saddle. He helped Sera out of the saddle, ignoring her gasp of pain as her legs cramped. He led her into the post office, nodded at her, and left. He walked outside, habit forcing him to check the streets for anyone suspicious. He had killed enough fellow thieves for someone to have taken notice. It didn't pay to relax when someone was out to get you.

He sighed, turning as he heard the doors creak behind him. Sera strode out of the post office, conflict written into her features. "Did you send a letter?" Link asked.

Sera hesitated. "Well…no."

"Why not?"

Again, Sera paused, chewing her lip. "I want to go with you!" she blurted.

Link shook his head. "Please. You know nothing about navigation, combat, or even basic survival. You'd be nothing but dead weight."

In response, Sera drew the knife up her sleeve. Link was mildly surprised that she was able to do so without fumbling, but was still unimpressed. "I said no, and that's final."

Sera's eyes filled with tears. "Please?" she asked.

Link waved a hand. "That doesn't convince me. That may work with daddy, but to me, it just shows how inexperienced you are."

"Come on!" Sera shouted, angry now. "Let me come with you!"

Link tipped a finger in her direction. "That's more like it, but you still can't come."

"Why not?"

Link lost his temper, and quickly looked around to see if anyone was watching. Lunging forward, he grabbed her shoulder, pulling her toward him until their faces were inches apart. "Do you even know what I am?" he hissed.

Her eyebrows met. "Yes. You are a wanderer, an honest man who risked his life to save an innocent traveler."

Link couldn't help but laugh. "Th-that's what you think?"

Confusion flickered across her face. "Well, yes."

"No," Link snapped, all trace of humour gone. "You have no idea what I am. I'm the farthest thing from an honest man."

"What do you mean?"

"Why do you think I hide eight knives on me? Why do you think I'm so good with them?"

"Maybe you were a mercenary or something…"

"A mercenary? I'm seventeen. Show me a seventeen-year old mercenary and I'll show you a boy who has a death wish. Besides, mercenaries and soldiers use swords, spears, axes. Not knives. Think about that, and guess again."

Silence from Sera.

"I'll tell you what I am," Link said, his tone low and dangerous. "I'm a thief. I'm no different from the men who almost killed you."

Sera drew away from him, fear in her eyes. "You mean…this whole time…"

"I'm not who you think I am," Link said, brutally shattering her image of him.

"Yes, you are," she replied, determination shining in her eyes. "A thief you may be, but you have a _conscience_. You not only stopped those men the other night, you killed them. You could have just as easily joined in, but you _didn't. _Look me in the eye, and tell me you're the scum you say you are."

"I do what I have to!" Link roared. "What, you think a boy that hasn't even reached adulthood yet can make a living?"

He stepped back, his bone-handled knives appearing in his hands. "_This…_this is what I have to do to survive." His mouth twisted in distaste. "I take no pleasure in it, but I have to survive."

The knives disappeared back up his sleeves. He placed his head in his now-empty hands. "Every night, my dreams are haunted by the innocents I've killed over the years. Every time, I was forced to choose between my life and theirs. And every time, their final agony tore me in half."

"I choose my life each time for a reason. I let it slip earlier that I was searching for something. And I am. Several things, in fact. But first and foremost, the murderer of my parents."

Unbidden, the memory Link tried so hard to repress rose in his mind.

_The tall man jerked his sword out of his father's chest. "No!" Link screamed._

_Without even thinking, he drew his knives, the ten-inch blades massive in his small hands. He prepared to charge, to lodge the blades in the man's heart, but his mother's arms stopped him. "Move!" she screamed. "Don't let his sacrifice be in vain!"_

_He ran, tears streaking his cheeks. A slaver stepped into his path, club raised to strike. Link didn't give him the chance. His blades flashed out in the form Parting the Silk. The slaver collapsed, his chest laid open by the razor-sharp blades._

_Another got in his way. He died, too, blood spurting between his fingers. So did the next ones that dared to menace him and his mother. His mother fought too, a slightly curved short-sword dripping blood onto her hands. He didn't even see the slaver that cut her down. The same man that killed his father, the leader of the slavers, tugged his sword out of Link's mother's corpse, laughing at the boy that continued to flee._

_He was quickly surrounded by slavers, a thicket of blades pointed straight at him. Regardless, his blades continued to flash, claiming the lives of two more slavers, until he was overwhelmed._

_The leader kneeled down in front of him. "You are skilled," he said simply._

_The man stood up, holding his hand out. One of Link's knives was placed in it. The man looked at the knife, admiring its craftsmanship. "Well-armed, too," he remarked._

_Without further pause, he slammed the hilt of the knife into Link's head. "But still not enough…" _

_That was the last thing Link heard as his world dissolved into darkness._

Reaching up, Link fingered the scar on his temple. It was a miracle the blow had not killed him. Instead, it had left him alive, cursing him with life to prolong his agony.

"The slavers attacked my village at the end of the war. It was a final act of revenge by their leader. In the conflict, my parents were killed. They wounded me and left me for dead."

Link clenched his hand into a fist.

"I survived. That was their mistake, and I have every intention of making it their doom."

He stared into the distance, a single tear tracing the path of some long-healed wound down his cheek. "It's all I have left," he said softly.


	6. Identity

Link rode towards his house, Sera following close behind him. He never agreed to let her come with him, but she followed him anyway, displaying a remarkable amount of perseverance. All of Link's attempts to lose her had failed, the girl finding him again each time. Although lacking in most practical skills, a result of her soft upbringing, she was a skilled tracker, a skill that Link, although he refused to admit it, found valuable. Finally, he had given up, allowing her to go with him. What could he do, anyway, kill her? Of course not.

"So, let me get this straight," Sera said behind him. Link turned. As he was about to leave the village, she had shown up beside him, riding a tall thoroughbred. She named the horse Spirit, ignoring Link's suggestion of the name "Fleabag."

Link sighed, looking Sera in the eye. "You've been searching for these slavers for five years, despite having found nothing." She cocked her head to the side, a puzzled expression on her face. "I mean, revenge only goes so far. This is almost a vendetta. What, did you swear an oath to kill them, or something?"

"Yes," Link replied evenly. "That's exactly what I did. The day after…it happened, I swore a blood oath that I would not rest until my blades sheathed themselves in the dark heart of their leader."

"That seems a little extreme."

"As far as I know, I am the sole survivor of my village. Therefore, it falls to me to avenge my people." Link's eyes took on a cold, flinty nature as he said this. Sera shuddered at those eyes. Like windows into his soul, they held a raging inferno of rage and grief, yet remained colder than the deepest glacier.

Link blinked, his armor back in place. Sera groaned inwardly. How could she get to know him when he only let small details slip every now and then? It's as if there were two different Links. One, a skilled warrior, life dictated by honour. The second, a badly injured boy who had no idea who he really was.

Sera sighed. Link walked to the front door, laying his hand upon the door and bowing his head. Sear watched him as he closed his eyes, lips moving in some sort of prayer. He took his hand away from the door, revealing what lay under his palm: a single, bright red feather, pressed between twin sheets of glass.

Eying him thoughtfully, Sera had to admit she liked him. He was funny, intelligent, and by far the most honourable person she had ever met. He was the only one who didn't try to manipulate her, or suck up to her in an attempt to get into her pants. And, he was a living contradiction. How could so much honour exist in a thief? _That can't be what he is,_ Sera thought. _He only robs people when he has no other option._

Opening the door, Link went inside. Sear made to follow him, but he stopped her with a sharp glance. "What I'm about to do is not for you to see," he growled. Chastened, Sera stood where she was, watching Link disappear into his home.

Through the windows, she watched Link light three candles, placing them on the floor. He looked over and caught her eye, then closed the shutters. Disappointed, Sera sat back. Fine. If he wanted to be mysterious, he could just go ahead.

For the hundredth time, Sera wondered why she insisted on staying with him. True, she did like him, and enjoyed his company, but that was no reason to stay with him on an obviously perilous quest. Maybe something about his past, what little she knew about it, drew her to his side.

Sera sighed, going to Spirit. Opening his right-hand saddlebag, she brought out a long, ornate sword. At first glance, it appeared to be ceremonial, but a closer inspection would reveal the distinctive folding pattern in the steel that singled out a blade that would be just about impossible to break. Link wasn't the only one with secrets.

Her head snapped up at a sound from inside. Hiding the sword, she slowly strode toward the house, hoping the sound wasn't what she thought it was. It had sounded like a grunt of pain, a little like the involuntary yelp one makes when they stub a toe. Moving closer, she heard it again: this time, a drawn-out groan.

Sera burst into Link's house, ignoring his earlier warning. She stopped as soon as she saw him, pressing a hand to her mouth. "What the hell are you doing?" she gasped.

Link drew the shutters closed, knowing Sera was curious of what he intended. He arranged the three candles in a triangle on the floor. Using a small piece of chalk, he drew lines connecting the candles. Then, he drew another triangle inside the first, creating the symbol of the Triforce. Kneeling inside the symbol, he slowly unsheathed one of his knives. Blinking tears from his eyes, he grasped the blade in his hand, yelping slightly as he accidentally stabbed himself in the finger.

Link gritted his teeth. There was worse to come. Closing his eyes, he drew the blade across his palm, reopening a faint scar that seemed about five years old. He couldn't hold back a groan of pain as the blade sliced into his hand, blood beginning to run down his wrist.

He cut right across his palm, clenching his jaw against the pain. Taking the blade from his flesh, he examined it, making sure it was sufficiently whetted. Then, using the three candles, he burned the blood off the knife, pressing his wounded hand to his chest. Of course, this was exactly when Sera walked in.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Link glared at her. "I told you to stay outside," he hissed through clenched teeth.

Sera wouldn't listen. "Link, don't do it! You have so much to live for!"

Link furrowed his eyebrows, confused. She was making no sense at all. Then, realization hit him. What he was doing probably looked like some form of ritual suicide. "Okay," he said cautiously. "This isn't what it looks like."

Sera stared at him, fear-stricken. "Then, what is it?" she whispered.

Losing his patience, Link turned away. "Just let me finish."

He turned back toward the candles, burning the last of his blood off the blade. In his mind, he said a silent apology to his parents.

With a sigh, he stood up, blowing out the candles. He walked over to a dresser, removing a clean rag, tying it securely against his palm. He turned back towards Sera. "Anyway," he said, "You were wondering what I was doing."

He cleaned his knife off, sheathing it up his sleeve. "I was canceling my blood oath."

Sera was lost for words. "What?" she squeaked, finally finding her voice.

Link sighed. "You made me realize something. For five years, I pursued an enemy I knew nothing about, save that they killed my family. I had nothing to go on, not even the vaguest idea where they lived, or if any survived."

As he spoke, a bright red cardinal landed on the windowsill, trilling briefly. Link extended his good hand toward the bird, letting it hop onto his finger. It stared at him for a moment with bright, inquisitive eyes, then took flight, riding the air currents coming off Lake Hylia.

"You made me realize how pointless it was. After five years, I was no closer to my goal than I was the day I made the oath. Here I was, reduced to a petty thief, unable to trust anyone, endlessly pursuing an unattainable goal."

"Let me tell you what I truly am," Link said, sitting Sera down at the table. "Before the war, there existed a warrior society. They were the true guards of Hyrule, sworn to the royal family. The guards you see patrolling the streets weren't even close to them. The guards are a volunteer army. Some can't even tell one end of a sword from the other. This tribe, on the other hand, were fierce fighters, unmatched in combat. The children were instructed in honour and the ways of the blade. A child of twelve years in that tribe was more than a match for an adult soldier.

"When they came of age, members of that tribe swore their services to the royal family. Although rumors of our existence spread throughout the kingdom, rumors of skilled warriors who battled those that preyed on the weak, nobody knew who they were. They tried very hard to keep it that way. This tribe called themselves the Aundeii."

"Why are you telling me this?" Sera whispered. "It can't be…"

Realization dawned. "You…are you one of them?"

Link nodded. "I was twelve years old when the war struck. I had just received my blades: the bone-handled knives I choose to wield. After their defeat, the slavers somehow learned the location of our village and attacked as they retreated to whatever stinking pit of damnation they came from. Caught unawares, we were annihilated."

He gestured towards nothing at all, simply an all-encompassing sweep of his arm. "And now you see me, the last of the Aundeii, reduced to the very thing we swore to protect the people from."

Sera's eyes filled with tears. This was the reason for the conflict she saw in Link's face. The neverending quest for revenge.

Link turned back toward her. "But that's all behind me, now. I need to escape from the ghosts of the past, and start anew. I'm doing Hyrule no good like this."

He took a deep, shuddering breath. "You can take the bed tonight," he said, removing some raw leather from a drawer. "I have something I need to do."

Sera walked toward where he directed her, glancing back. Link was cutting the leather into strips, punching it every now and then with an awl. He stared at his work intently, oblivious to everything around him. His eyes held a distant expression, as if his mind was not on the work at all, but somewhere far away.

**Author's Note:**

**By the way, Aundeii is pronounced on-day. Just clearing things up.**


	7. Service

Sera awoke in the morning, sunlight slanting through the window. She got up and stretched, surveying the breaking dawn. Sera smiled gently as she watched Spirit graze in the nearby field. The smile quickly turned into a frown. Where was Epona? Come to think of it, Link's house was eerily silent.

She quickly dressed, and walked down the stairs to the lower level, calling Link's name. She found no sign of him, only a note sitting beside a pair of leather braces on the table. She glanced at the braces, noting they were identical to the ones Link stored his knives in. She picked up the note, squinting slightly to make out Link's handwriting. It wasn't as if it was messy; Link just wrote with his left hand, smudging the ink slightly.

_Dear Sera,_ the note read.

_You've probably noticed by now that I've left. Don't worry: it had nothing to do with you. Well, maybe some. You gave me the inspiration to do what I should have done five years ago: swear my loyalty to the royal family._

_I am the last Aundeii, and as such, it falls to me to uphold my people's ways. It is my sole responsibility. Please don't search for me. It's unlikely that I'll see you again._

_Those braces on the table, as you've probably noticed, are the same as the ones I wear. I had to guess at your wrist size, but I made them adjustable just in case. You'll be able to find suitable knives at a military surplus shop. You'll also need someone to teach you how to use them properly. _

_But I digress. I'm just putting off the thing I always hate to say. Goodbye._

_And thank you. Thank you for…everything, I guess. I needed someone to actually talk to. And, of course, for helping me see the error of my ways. If you hadn't thrown my motives back in my face like that, who knows how long I would have spent chasing shadows._

_So, again, thank you._

_And goodbye._

_Link_

Sera put the note down, shocked. "He left me," she muttered.

Link rode into Castle Town, moving straight toward the castle. He had taken only the bare essentials: his knives, spare clothes, an extra bridle for Epona, and the cardinal feather on the door. He rode into the castle, ignoring the guard's surprised protests.

Link sent the horse galloping through the halls of the castle, mindless of the nobility dodging out of his way. Bursting into the throne room, he pulled back on the reins, the horse rearing and whinnying in protest.

Sitting on the throne, attending to the selfish needs of some nobleman, Princess Zelda looked up in surprise. "Zelda, heir to the throne of Hyrule," Link announced, dismounting and striding toward the throne.

He knelt in front of the princess, placing a closed fist over his heart. He took a deep breath. This next action would be the most important of his young life. He stretched out his arms, his knives flashing into them. With a startled shout, the guards in the chamber lunged forward.

Before they could grab him, Link flipped the blades around, holding the hilts toward Zelda. "I am Link, the last Aundeii," he said, directing it to both princess and everyone else in the room. "I offer my loyalty to you and your house. My blades are yours to wield, through me, however you see fit."

Zelda paused for a moment, considering. This was certainly unorthodox. Who was this…Link, last of the Aundeii? Then, something flickered in the back of her head. She paused, remembering something her father had told her. Something about a warrior tribe, called the…Aundy? Ondei?

Maybe…the Aundeii?

Zelda gasped as the importance of Link's appearance occurred to her.

_Does that mean…one survived?_

Without further hesitation, Zelda drew her ceremonial sword, laying it on Link's shoulder. "I accept your vow of loyalty," she said, "And all responsibility that it entails."

She sheathed the sword, extending her hand towards Link. Then paused. He was still holding the hilts of the knives out.

_Ohhhh, shit._ Zelda thought. _I fucked up the ceremony._

"Sorry," she whispered, taking the blades. She crossed them into an X, laying the tip of each knife on Link's shoulders. More loudly, she said, "I accept your loyalty as an Aundeii."

Link rose, looking her in the eye. "You're dismissed," Zelda said, motioning the nobleman away. "You too," she added, gesturing toward the guards. "Leave me and my newest vassal alone."

"Yes, mi'lady," the closest guard said. The guards bowed, and exited the chamber.

"Please excuse this," Zelda said, once they were alone. Closing her eyes, she extended her right hand, placing it on Link's breast. A strange design began to glow through her white gloves, a design of three triangles joined by their points. The bottom left triangle glowed brighter than the others.

Zelda let her hand fall, opening her eyes. "You have a confused past," she said.

Ten minutes later, Link had been appointed as Zelda's personal bodyguard, much to the chagrin of the guards. One particularly irate guard decided to take it up with link the next day after weapons practice.

It took Link all of seven seconds to disarm him. Link laid one of his knives against the trembling guard's throat. "I suggest you choose your next words _very_ carefully," he growled.

The incident was largely ignored, as there were no injuries to either party. The guard responsible quietly resigned, without speaking another word to Link.

Three months after that, Link became the youngest person ever to be promoted to captain of the guard, after foiling an assassination attempt. A man, claiming to petition for a land settlement, had drawn a knife and charged the princess while Link was distracted. Before the man had taken two steps, he had frozen, three knives sprouting from his throat and chest.

Link glared daggers at the dying man, almost literally, two more knives ready to throw. Princess Zelda hadn't even seen Link move. One second, he was shooing away the next petitioner, and the next, he had thrown three knives at the assassin with deadly accuracy.'

Nobody protested his promotion this time.

One month later, he was placed in charge of training the Hylian guards. He increased their skills from the predictable, uncoordinated forms of farmers, to the flowing stance of near blademasers. Under his direction, the one-thousand strong military force became an army of elite commandos. A force that was to be reckoned with. He also instructed them in the honour code of the Aundeii.

Four months after that, he was promoted to the Council of Generals. The only one who protested was the general Link replaced. That probably had something to do with the bandit ambush on Princess Zelda's caravan. The guards had been outnumbered twenty to one, yet, somehow, Link had routed the bandits with zero casualties. Even Zelda didn't understand the strategy Link used.

Zelda sank back in the throne, sighing, the last petitioner finally satisfied. Link stood stoically beside her throne, as always. Zelda sighed inwardly. He was a skilled warrior, a brilliant tactician, and fiercely loyal to her. But he was so _cold._ It was as if he was always somewhere else. He never showed emotion, or even the slightest bit of pride. Whenever she saw him alone, he was always training. Or practicing. Or doing something to enhance skills related to combat.

For instance, once, she had walked in on him juggling razors. He said it was to "sharpen his reflexes." It looked like a crazy stunt to Zelda.

"Link," she said, looking up at him.

"Yes, mi'lady?" he replied.

Zelda groaned. "Enough with the formalities. Can't we just talk?"

Link blinked. "That would not be proper, mi'lady."

"Link, please! You're always so cold. I want to know you have just a bit of warmth in your heart."

Link sighed. "This is all I know," he replied cryptically.

"Link, I respect you. You've saved my life on more than one occasion. But that's not enough. I want to respect you as a friend, not a bodyguard."

"Emotions will get in the way and prevent me from adequately performing my duty."

Zelda suppressed a screech. "You are the most infuriatingly…infuriating man I have ever met!"

"What are you getting at?" Link's eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly.

Zelda sighed. "The nobles have been badgering me to choose a suitor. They want a King and Queen."

Link's eyes widened. Finally, a reaction. "What?"

"Link, I have been considering you."

"You WHAT?"

"I have been considering choosing you as a potential suitor, for no reason other than to get the nobles off my back."

Link threw his hands in the air. "I don't believe this. This was the least thing I expected when I bound myself to you."

"Why did you do that, though?"

"I HAD NO CHOICE!" Link roared. "It was the only way I could escape the ghosts of my past, and still fulfill my obligation."

"Did you ever consider ignoring your obligations?"

Link was floored. He gaped at Zelda dumbly, lost for words.

"That," he said softly, "is not an option."

"There has to be something your people have outside responsibility," Zelda protested, growing desterate.

"No," Link replied. He unsheathed one of his knives. "There is only this."

Zelda stared at him her eyes filling with tears. "Maybe it's for the best…"

"What is?" Link snarled.

"Maybe your people were better off destroyed. What is life when all it is…is responsibility?"

Link glared at her. "Without responsibility, I have nothing. I cannot-"

He was cut off as a guard burst into the throne room. "A thousand apologies, but this cannot wait. Mi'lady, an army approaches. They bear a strange standard, one I haven't seen before. Though I must admit, it looks strangely familiar."

"No," Link whispered, sprinting toward the battlements. He grabbed a spyglass from the closest guard and focused it toward the blot on the horizon. Through the lens, he saw a vast army: three thousand men at the very least. The standard was the worst part, though. On a white background, a sword of pure darkness thrust through a red feather. Link's hand tightened on the spyglass. The lens cracked as the casing warped under the pressure.

With a shaking hand, Link fumbled the cardinal feather from its pouch. "It's happening again," he moaned. "The slavers return."


	8. The Siege

Dropping the ruined spyglass, Link turned toward the nearest guard, noting the officer's plumes on his helmet. "Name and rank," he barked.

The soldier jumped. "G-general Link!" He saluted smartly. "Lieutenant Colonel Kalo at your service, sir."

Link looked into his eyes, placing his hand on his shoulder. "I want you to keep this between you and me," he said evenly. "We will not be able to hold the city. I'm placing you in charge of the evacuation. To make things easier, I'm promoting you to Brigadier General, effective immediately."

The soldier paled visibly. "Sir?"

"Evacuate Castle Town," Link said. "I'll hold the slavers off as long as possible, and withdraw if my prediction was correct."

Kalo gasped. "You mean…the slavers have returned?"

"That's exactly what I mean," Link said grimly. "I just don't know how they got all the way to Castle Town without any warning signs. We should have received messages from the villages they attacked."

"Maybe they bypassed the villages."

Link laughed. "Do you know just how many supplies an army needs? They had to have plundered somewhere."

Kalo paled. "Unless…"

"Unless what?"

"Unless they didn't let anyone escape."

"I wouldn't put it past them," Link growled. "They don't seem to have a habit of leaving survivors."

"You survived."

Kalo's comment went ignored. "I want Castle Town empty before they reach the walls. Evacuate through the southern route. They won't expect that, and maybe attack before they're ready."

"Yessir!"

Link dismissed the officer, hoping he was as competent as he looked. Something about his ridiculous handlebar moustache made him look like he knew what he was doing. "I need archers on the north walls!" he yelled. "Fire the moment they get in range!"

"Sir!"

Link turned, addressing the soldier saluting him. "Private second class Rogir, reporting for duty!"

Link returned the salute. "You need something?"

"Sir, request permission to assemble bomb catapults!"

Link grinned. He had forgotten all about those. "Go ahead private. Give the bastards something to think about."

"Yessir!" the private dashed away, running toward a group of siege engineers standing beside a pile of timber. The catapults were modified trebuchets, reconfigured to fire small objects immense distances. This made them perfect for long-range bombardment, using bombs, of course.

As he watched, the catapult went together with surprising speed. Six others just like it were erected in the next few minutes. 'Open fire as soon as you find range!" Link barked, returning to the battlements.

"Sir,"

A soldier had stopped, handing Link a new spyglass. "You might want to see this."

Link focused the spyglass on the army, frowning. The slavers were building something at the front lines. It looked like a metal tube on a wagon. "The hell is that thing?" Link wondered aloud.

"Whatever it is they're loading it with black powder," the soldier replied. "Could be a bomb of some sort."

Link shook his head. "The tube's too thick. It would never explode."

He frowned again. Now, the slavers were jamming a round steel ball into the tube and threading a fuse into the top. "Now what are they doing?" he muttered.

One of the slavers fixed a spyglass to the tube, looking down it as he rotated the device. Link stepped back involuntarily as he found himself staring straight down it. "That thing is-" he started.

The slaver lit the fuse, backing off. Seconds later, Link observed a white puff of smoke as the black powder detonated. Moments later, the sound of the concussion rang over the field. Link shrugged, turning toward the soldier. "Doesn't seem to do-"

There was a sound like a thunderclap, and the top half of the soldier disappeared in a spray of blood and bone. Blood fountained from the still-standing legs, spraying across Link's face. Panicking, he looked toward the army of slavers again. They had wheeled out another dozen of the strange devices, and were preparing to fire again. "Take cover!" Link screamed, his voice nearly lost in the thunderous blast of the new weapons.

Only a few soldiers heard him. The twenty-pound steel balls slammed into the stone walls of Castle Town, blowing massive holes through them. A cannonball smashed through the top ramparts, continuing to obliterate another soldier. Link stood up, coughing. Smoke and dust clogged the air, making it hard to see or breathe. Blood was everywhere. Looking around, Link saw that most of the soldiers on the battlements were dead or dying. "Catapults!" he yelled. "What the hell are you waiting for? Return fire!"

The trebuchets quickly went into action, hurling modified bombs at the enemy. Twenty pounds of black powder were contained in a thin metal shell. If you were unfortunate enough to be within fifteen metres of the thing, if the blast didn't kill you, shrapnel would.

Link smiled grimly as he watched the bombs explode among the slavers, rendering carnage similar to that on the battlements. Responding, the artillery crews adjusted their aim, firing again. Link groaned as the heavy chunks of steel punched right through the walls, tearing the trebuchets and their crews to pieces. One of the bombs loaded in the trebuchet exploded, sending more metal shrapnel in every direction. Link grunted as a wood splinter struck him in the chest, penetrating far enough to be painful, but not far enough to be fatal.

Link left it, knowing that it was slowing the bleeding, and focused his spyglass toward the southern end of the city. He only hoped that the evacuation was proceeding smoothly.

Of course, it wasn't. Kalo cursed as he attempted to keep the line of civilians moving. "Take only what you can carry!" he bellowed for the umpteenth time, again ignored by the people.

He glanced toward the northern battlements, hoping they were holding. He heard the shouts and screams of dying men, and the concussions of exploding bombs, but strangely enough, no ring of steel.

He went back to convincing a merchant that he couldn't take his antique writing desk.

"It was a family heirloom," the merchant huffed.

"Can you carry it?" Kalo asked icily.

The merchant looked at it. The desk must have weighed three hundred pounds. "Well, no." he said, fiddling with his buttons.

"Then you can't take it." Kalo replied.

"Whyever not?"

Similar arguments were going on all around Castle Town. Only about a quarter of the population had been evacuated so far, the rest stubbornly refusing to leave.

_At this rate,_ Kalo thought wryly, _we'll be lucky to get everyone out of here by next week._ He wished General Link had simply declared martial law. It would have made things _so_ much easier.

Losing his patience, he turned back to the merchant. "For the love of the Goddesses!" he yelled, "The city is under attack! If you don't leave, you'll be either killed or enslaved!"

"I think not," the merchant said gruffly. "Castle Town has never fallen. I'm confident the Guard can defend it."

_If General Link says we will lose, we _will_ lose!_ Kalo thought. "Fine!" he yelled. "Don't leave! Hope you like hard labor!"

He stomped away, casting a wary eye toward the battlements. A war horn sounded in the distance. "We're dead," he moaned.

"Take cover!" Link screamed to the few surviving soldiers. A new fusillade of cannonballs smashed through the walls. One of the men collapsed, a fist-sized hole in his chest, a result of the stone shrapnel being flung in every direction. The walls were not built for this kind of abuse, several sections collapsing entirely.

Link looked over the edge as a war horn sounded. A deafening roar echoed over the countryside as the army charged. He looked around despondently. For every ten soldiers originally on the battlements, six were dead or dying. Only two out of every ten were in any condition to fight, the other two severely wounded.

Despairing, Link gave the order to retreat. The other nine generals had disappeared long ago, sneaking out of the city before the battle began. _This can't even be described as a siege,_ Link thought, hell exploding around him once again as the cannons thundered. _This is a massacre._

Abandoning dying comrades, the few survivors fled to the castle, determined to evacuate the royal family. One took a detour, ringing the town bell, the signal to abandon the city.

Over where Kalo stood, panic exploded as the mournful toll of the bell echoed across the streets. Civilians screamed, and stampeded toward the gates. Those who fell were trampled. Kalo found himself swept along with the rush, desperately trying to stay on his feet. To his side, a soldier fell and was crushed by the hundreds of people running toward the exit. The situation had escalated out of control. "At least they're moving now," Kalo remarked to another soldier being swept along beside him. The man grunted in response.

Link crouched behind a pile of rubble, watching as the first of the slavers walked through the ruined walls. He signaled to the soldier beside him, who set an arrow on fire, carefully aiming it near the slavers. Link dropped his hand, and the soldier let go of the bowstring, sending the arrow into the bomb hidden in the rubble.

It exploded, tearing the slavers to shreds, the shrapnel ripping through them like they were wet tissue paper. Link was retreating, but he was making the slavers pay for every step they took. One of the things he had trained the Guard in was guerilla warfare, and they put it to very good use. Everywhere the slavers went, they were plagued by hidden archers and bombs hidden in the rubble.

It had been three hours since Kalo had fired a flaming arrow into the sky, the signal that the evacuation was complete. Princess Zelda was the only civilian left in the city, refusing to leave until it was certain that the city was lost. Despite Link's protests, she had barricaded herself in the throne room with ten handpicked guards. Now, it fell to Link to buy the evacuation as much time as possible.

"Look on the bright side," he muttered to the soldier beside him. "At this rate, the civilians will be halfway to Eldin by the time we retreat."

The soldier, Corporal Yant, shrugged, firing his arrow at the nearest slaver. He collapsed as the shaft embedded itself in his right eye. Link and Yant picked off the rest of the bandits in the next few seconds, quickly moving to a new location. Elsewhere, a thunderous blast signaled the detonation of yet another booby trap.

Link's goal was to stall the bandits for another eighteen hours, giving the evacuation almost a full day's head start. He was well on track. After three hours, the slavers had only been able to penetrate the shattered walls. Almost an hour before, the cannons had opened up again, laying waste to the northern edge of the city, but failing to neutralize even one surviving guard. At the first thunder of the cannons, the survivors had taken shelter in basements, ignoring the buildings collapsing above them.

One hour later, the survivors had their first casualty. The slavers wheeled a cannon into the city, loading it before crossing the walls. A soldier decided to be a hero, and shot the nearest slaver in the chest. Before he could move, the cannon belched out a tongue of flame, decimating the entire top floor of the building, and the soldier with it.

Three hours later, Link detonated the last bomb, killing three more slavers. They were being far more careful now, after their initial heavy losses, checking each area thoroughly before moving on. So, Link merely lit the last bomb and hurled it at them.

Two hours after that, the slavers pulled out of the city. Their losses had been too heavy, so they switched tactics. Wheeling the cannons toward the city walls, they laid waste to almost half the city, firing barrage after barrage into any buildings still standing. They shelled the city for three hours, destroying three-quarters of the buildings and killing another eight guards who had been unable to reach cover in time.

_Nine hours to go, _Link thought grimly. The few surviving guards had abandoned the ruins of the city and fled into the castle, the only building in Hyrule's capital that was still recognizable. Cannon fire had pocked the walls, but failed to breach, some trick of construction preventing any major damage.

He and his men now fought a room-to-room battle, ambushing the slavers in corridors. Of the hundred men that had survived the initial assault, twenty remained, including their general. Step by step, they were driven back to the throne room At this point, they were just stalling the inevitable. Castle Town was lost.


	9. Defeat

Link knocked on the door to the throne room. Hearing no response, he pounded on it with the hilt of his knife. "Open up!" he yelled. "Come on, Zelda, let me in!"

A scuffling sound came from the other side of the door as the barricade was removed. Link and his surviving men stumbled in, glassy-eyed with fatigue and blood-streaked. Not a single one had escaped injury.

"Princess Zelda," Link gasped. "You must leave. Not only is the city lost, there isn't even a city to protect anymore."

Zelda nodded, a single tear trickling down her cheek. "I see," she said.

"The entire population was evacuated almost twenty hours ago. You are the only non-military body remaining in the city."

"I cannot leave until all hope is lost."

"That would have been the second the slavers showed up," Link replied dryly. "I knew from the start that the city would fall. The only question was how long we could hold out."

Zelda looked at him, shock written into her fine features. "Why would you stay, if you knew it was hopeless?"

"I was buying the evacuation time."

He turned, drawing aside a curtain, unbolting the door to the emergency escape. He was just leading Zelda in when he heard a sound that had become all too familiar: the distinctive gruff language of the slavers echoing down the hall.

"Not enough time," he muttered. He signaled the guards behind him to go ahead. They complied, not bothering to salute in their weariness.

"Go on, Zelda," he said, pushing her gently toward the passageway. "I'll buy you time to get out of here."

"Link, no." she whispered. "You're killing yourself."

"No," he replied. "I'm giving my life in service to the royal family of Hyrule."

He chuckled. "It's almost funny. I served you in every way I could, but I failed you in one thing. You needed a friend. All I was, was a bodyguard."

He looked into her eyes. "I'm sorry I wasn't better."

He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, just for a moment. He pulled away, unsheathing the knives that never left his side. Zelda's eyes filled with tears. She stood where she was, still caught in the emotional upheaval created by Link's kiss. Link glared at her, breaking the spell. "Go! Now!"

He practically threw her through the door, bolted it securely, and drew the curtain back across it. From a pouch at his waist, he removed the panels of glass with the feather between them. He struck the glass with the hilt of his knife, breaking it, and gently picked up the feather.

He closed his eyes, remembering.

_The time his father told him what the cardinal feather meant._

__

_The day he received his blades._

_The look on his mother's face when he rose to the top of weapons class._

_The pride he felt when he hit the bulls-eye with a knife for the first time._

_The smell of baking bread that seemed to always permeate the house._

Eyes still closed, he made a small cut in his tunic, threading the feather into it. The feather made a splash of colour on his bloodstained tunic, turning an otherwise plain garb into something out of a legend: the cloth of an Aundeii warrior.

Link flexed his hands, and his knives sprang into them. He made no attempt to barricade the door, or set any kind of ambush. The slavers came ever closer. Link began breathing deeply, superoxygenating his blood for the imminent battle.

New memories flooded his head.

_The horse he had found after he regained consciousness, after the destruction of his people. The name he had given it: his mother's name._

_The strange old man who taught him how to hide knives up his sleeves, and make them appear seemingly from thin air._

_The first thing he had said to Sera when he first met her…_

Link frowned. Try as he might, he simply could not remember what he had said to her. He concentrated, ignoring the slavers coming ever closer. It suddenly seemed supremely important that he remember. The first slaver entered the room, looking around cautiously. So fixated was he on the rich tapestries that he didn't even notice Link until he cut his throat.

Link stared coldly at the dying man as he sank to the carpet, air trickling through his cut windpipe. In a rush, he remembered. His first actual words to Sera had been "For what?"

_What a stupid icebreaker,_ Link thought idly. He felt strangely detached, almost as if from a third-person viewpoint.

_I wonder why they call it third-person,_ he thought, his thoughts going off on a tangent. _Where's the second person?_

Several more slavers entered the room, cautious now that they heard nothing from their comrade. Almost like a ghost, Link appeared in front of them, his knives whirling in an intricate pattern.

He encountered slight resistance when spinning blades met flesh, but continued on. The slavers fell, dozens of gashes leaking blood onto the floor. Link sheathed his knives, casually flicking his throwing knives at the next pair to come through the door.

He positioned himself in the door, blocking access to the throne room. If a slaver stood before him, he died. His knives shone red in the fading daylight, tasting blood for the last time.

He was still cutting slavers down when a single arrow got past his guard, fired from down the hallway. It flew between his blades, lodging itself a millimeter below his heart. Link stumbled back against the wall, knives still flashing out, claiming one slaver's life, then another. The bowman fired again, the arrow punching through Link's shoulder.

Link barely even noticed the injury. He threw his knives, watching with satisfaction as they punched into the bowman's face with a grisly crunch. He drew his last two knives, the small, seven-inch daggers that he so rarely used. He thrust these into the chest of a slaver stupid enough to get within range, sword raised to strike.

He smiled as another slaver charged at him. He would not deal the fatal blow. With a last gasp, he threw the daggers at the man. The blades punched through his eyes, driving straight into his brain.

Link allowed his legs to fold, letting himself slump against the wall. The last thing his eyes saw was a slaver stumbling out of the throne room. "Where's the princess?" he shouted.

Link, the last of the Aundeii, died laughing.

Zelda stopped in the tunnel, hand pressed to her mouth. "What's wrong, mi'lady?" Corporal Yant asked.

Zelda began to sob, pressing her face into his hands. "He's dead. Link's dead."

Yant stumbled back. General Link…dead? The thought simply didn't compute.

As one, he and the few surviving guards raised their swords in salute. "Farewell, Link" Yant said, voice breaking. "He goes to join his people."

The leader of the slavers slowly walked toward the throne room, surveying the destroyed city. The Hylians had put up a good defense, he would give them that. He chuckled as he sat down in the throne of Hyrule. "Finally," he rumbled. "This land is mine."

His eyes fell on the dead man sitting against a wall. Two arrows poked out of his chest, one of them just missing a bright red feather. "An Aundeii," the slaver mused. "I thought we killed them all five years ago."

"Well, obviously one survived," another slaver replied.

"I wonder," the leader said. Walking over to the dead Aundeii, he examined his right temple. On it was a faint scar.

The slaver began to chuckle, finally giving in to a full-throated laugh. "So, you finally decide to get out of my life," he said.

"He died hard," another slaver said. "Took about twenty of us with him."

"I would expect nothing less of him," the leader growled.

He thrust his hand toward him, a design composed of three triangles flashing on the back of his hand. The boy's body was instantly obliterated, dissolving into a thin cloud of ash.

"Even without the power of courage, he still proves himself a formidable foe," the slaver mused. "But no longer."

He grimaced as he once again seated himself on the throne. Time and time again, that accursed blade had banished him to the darkness. But who would wield it now?

Ganondorf, feared leader of the Felusari slavers, laughed as he gazed around the throne room. The capital was his, the only threat to him was dead, and he expected an excellent dinner. Fate truly was smiling on him.

"Every time, you defeated me," he growled. "But everything must come to an end."

He laughed. "I have won."

**End of Part I**


	10. Darkness

Kalo stared miserably at the teeming flood of refugees he was responsible for. They all shuffled in the same direction, neither knowing nor caring where they were going. Truth was, Kalo didn't know either. As they exited Castle Town, he had simply chosen a direction at random and sent the people off.

He was regretting doing that, now.

He sat in a small tent with several other surviving officers, attempting to figure out where to take them.

Beside him, one of the lower-ranking officers, Lieutenant Kran, a young man of about twenty winters, threw his map down. "Congratulations are in order, Mister Kalo," he spat. "You've led us to the most desolate area in the entire bloody country!"

Kalo winced, pressing a finger to his temple. This idiot's whining was not doing his migraine any good at all. Leadership wasn't all that it was cracked up to be.

Ignoring the Lieutenant, Kalo squinted at the map again. The closest city that had even the slightest possibility of accommodating the refugees was Belmange, which was a good thirty leagues away, in the opposite direction. The refugees were lucky to make it eight leagues in a day, averaging about six.

Kalo rubbed his eyes. He hadn't slept for three days.

"And what do you plan on doing about food, huh?" Kran continued. He was really on a roll. "We've already run through what we brought, and foraging is going nowhere-"

"SHUT UP!" Kalo bellowed. The officers fell silent and stared at him. Kalo stared at the table for a moment, breathing heavily. "Lieutenant Kran," he said quietly, "you are relieved from duty."

The soldier in question sniffed and stood up. "Don't think dismissing me will solve your problems-"

Kalo cut him off. "Permanently," he growled.

Kran frowned. "What-"

Kalo glared at him. "I will accept your immediate resignation from the Castle Town City Guard. If you do not resign, that gives me the far more satisfying approach of removing you."

The ex-lieutenant stared dangerously at Kalo. "Don't you think this is the end of this," he growled. "Other soldiers are grumbling. If you keep this up, we'll have a mutiny on our hands. And where will you be then, Mister-High-And-Mighty-General Kalo?"

He leaned closer, baring teeth in what was supposed to be a smile. "And when that happens, I'll be right there at the front, saying 'I told you so.'"

"Get out of my sight, civilian," Kalo spat.

Kran bowed mockingly as he exited the tent. "As you wish, sir,"

On of the other officers watched him go. "You do realize you're going to regret that," he remarked.

Kalo sighed, blowing his long moustache forward. "Focus on what needs to be done," he said.

He laid a finger on the map. "Come morning, we march for Belmange. Spread the word."

"And if that's been invaded, too?" another officer asked.

Kalo closed his eyes to hide the tears building in them. "Then may the Goddesses help us all."

Kalo stepped out of the tent, squinting against the bright sunlight. Three days since Castle Town fell. Three days since the world changed forever. Three days since he had last slept.

Fighting his exhaustion, he approached one of the sentries. Noting that their food supplies were nearly gone, he had instructed the refugees to use the day to rest and forage.

"Any sign of her?" he asked quietly.

The sentry shook his head.

Kalo sighed, a single tear leaking down his cheek. "Enough is enough. I'm declaring both Princess Zelda and General Link missing, presumed dead."

Ignoring the sentry's gasp, he turned and strode away.

He went into his private tent, pulling a small sculpture of the Triforce from his pocket. "Why have you forsaken us, Goddesses?" he asked. "What purpose do you have in sending this plague, of leaving an entire city without the slightest shred of hope?"

He wheeled and hurled the ceramic figurine to the ground. Striking a small stone, it shattered.

Kalo fell to his knees and wept.

Ganondorf sat in the throne of Hyrule, musing. He did that a lot, it seemed. The novelty of sitting in the throne never seemed to wear off. He sat, and pondered what to do next.

Attacking and eliminating the refugees was out of the question. Ganondorf had no way of knowing how many soldiers were still alive and escorting them, and his losses in taking Castle Town had been heavy.

The losses were really no problem, as his army of three thousand had merely been an advance force. An additional fifty thousand men were en route from his distant land of origin, and were expected to arrive within a couple weeks. With them, they carried dozens more of the devastating weapons that guaranteed them victory, as well as ample supplies of shot and powder.

After escaping for the umpteenth time from the prison the Gods damned him to, Ganon decided to change his strategy. Why raise an army of darkness when it was so much easier to raise a conventional army? The creatures of his creation were unreliable, and difficult to produce in large numbers, resulting in a thinly spread mob of monsters.

The Ferusari provided the perfect answer. As their entire culture revolved around subjugation, they didn't possess the chains of morals that dragged down so many others. And they were more than happy to follow him, after he defeated their leader in mortal combat.

After arming and training them, he led them in a full-scale invasion of Hyrule. They had been on the verge of victory, but defeated by a fearsome warrior culture who called themselves the Aundeii. Claiming to be "chosen blades of the gods," they had torn his men to pieces with every encounter. It was only because of them that he had to abandon the campaign.

Yet he secured a decisive victory as he retreated: he happened upon a village of those cursed people, caught them unawares, and massacred the entire population. Quite by accident, he wiped out the people that destroyed his victory.

Ganondorf stayed in Ferus for five years, allying neighboring tribes to his cause. One small tribe was so kind as to give him devastating weapons, capable of flinging a steel ball over a league, which they referred to as _kragh'makh_, or Fists of Iron.

Armed with these new weapons, and double the troops, Ganon led the slavers in a devastating charge across Hyrule, wiping out anything that stood in their way. This time, he was successful.

_Always nice to have a flawless strategy,_ he thought to himself.

The escape of the princess was worrisome, but not overly so. Judging from what he had found in her chambers, she was far from capable of leading anything, let alone the people of a shattered nation.

Besides, there were other contingencies set in place. On his retreat, he had seeded sleeper agents throughout Hyrule, their task to blend in and secure positions of power.

In retrospect, the sleeper agents were quite unnecessary. Ganon had invaded a Hyrule that was rife with thieves. Most order had collapsed, Castle Town and the surrounding cities the only remnant of Hyrule's former glory. Another example of Zelda's ineptitude.

No, he was in no rush, no rush at all. Ganon had all the time in the world. And there were some things he wanted to experiment with.

He stood up, surveying the five slavers in front of him. All stood stiffly at attention.

"You have been made fully aware of the potential consequences of volunteering for this…treatment," Ganon announced. "There is a strong possibility you will all die in agony."

The slavers never even blinked.

"If you decide to back out, I will not hold it against you."

None moved.

"Very well, then," Ganon said, Triforce of Power glowing brightly on his hand. "Let us begin."

He closed his eyes, concentrating. A swirling cloud of darkness appeared around the slavers. All light faded from the room as the cloud grew in strength. The slavers collapsed, writhing, as the storm encompassed the entire room.

Ganondorf's maniacal laughter rose over the howl of the storm. "It's working!" he shrieked, baring his teeth.

An army of darkness was useless. But darkness itself still had its applicaions.


	11. Dreams

The young man strode across the field, away from the ruins of Castle Town. He looked about seventeen years of age, although he seemed to carry the weight of a much greater age on his shoulders.

He kept reaching up and fingering a spot on his chest, just under his heart, finding nothing out of the ordinary each time. His intense cobalt eyes seemed to stare into eternity, wide but unseeing.

He limped slightly, a result of stepping of a shard of broken glass. He didn't know where he was going, or where he was. He didn't even know _who_ he was. All he knew was one thing, which he repeated to himself like a mantra. "I should be dead. I should be dead. I should be dead."

His gaze focused on something in the distance. An abandoned house. He set off toward this new destination, still repeating the one thing he was sure of.

He stopped before the door. "I should be dead," he muttered, pushing it open.

"I should be dead," he told the inside of the house. The original occupant was slumped at the kitchen table, a knife in his back. "I should be dead," he told the corpse.

Fumbling around, he found the bedroom. He slid between the sheets. "I should be dead," he said one more time. With that, he closed his eyes and slept.

And dreamed.

He liked it better when he dreamed. He could remember things then. Not everything, but a little more every time. Eventually, he would begin to remember things in the waking world. But as it stood, his memories were still too fragmented to do anything beyond confusing him, and so they remained locked in the shadows of his mind.

In the waking world, he remembered that he had suddenly…_been_ in a corridor of a castle, just outside what appeared to be a throne room. He couldn't explain it. One moment he was not there, and the next, he was. He wasn't just there, in the castle corridor. He _was_. He suddenly had awareness, thought and emotion. He kept trying to remember what was before the corridor, but only found a blank. Yet although his mind felt completely empty, he felt strangely clean, as if he'd been born anew.

After appearing in the castle corridor, he remembered thinking something along the lines of _Really? You had to send me back here?_ This thought confused him, as it came out of nowhere, and it seemed to have no real context. He didn't even know were here was.

This line of thought was interrupted as a man walked down the corridor, right past him. He was swaying slightly on his feet, obviously drunk. Somehow, the young man knew that this one was not friendly. Some instinct took over, and before he knew what was happening, he had wrapped his arm around the man's face, breaking his neck with a sharp twist.

The next few hours were a blur: sneaking through the castle, encountering other people every once in a while, killing them, and hiding the bodies. He knew only two things at this point: he should be dead, and that he was somehow a ruthless killing machine. He vaguely remembered killing some sixty-four people before leaving the castle, and the ruins of the city that surrounded it. Some gut instinct had taken over, driving him to escape, and seek friendly people.

He followed that instinct without protesting. It had kept him alive so far. As he wandered, he frequently glanced at the design glowing on his left hand. Three triangles, the bottom left glowing more brightly than the others. He knew what it meant when he dreamed, but not when he was awake. It had proven quite frustrating.

Link dreamed.

He found himself before a great spring, surrounded on all sides by trees. The trees were ancient behemoths, stretching hundreds of metres into the sky. They seemed to hail from the very day of creation.

This was a familiar sight for Link. He remembered his name, now that he was dreaming. As he waited, three columns of pure light emerged from nowhere. They resolved into three female figures, identical in every regard, except one was red, one blue, the other green. This too, was a familiar sight.

Before they even addressed him, Link spoke. "Whatever you did, it isn't working," he said. "I can't remember anything. Not even my name. I'm confused. Scared. I've been thrust into the middle of a world that doesn't make any sense. How can I do what needs to be done if I can't even remember who I am?"

The goddesses considered for a moment. Finally, they spoke, their voices resonating from everywhere and nowhere. "More time is needed."

"More time?" Link mocked. "You took three days and nights bringing my memories back from the void. You're practically omnipotent, and three solid days resulted in only tattered shreds of memory that don't even surface, and warrior instincts that scare me more than anything else."

Link took a deep breath, attempting to cool his flaming temper. "I don't pretend to understand the nature of what you're doing," he continued, "but it's too slow."

"Hero," the goddesses chorused, "you must understand. The secrets of the mind are a mystery even to us. Your memories are there, just locked away."

"And what good are they going to do there?" Link growled.

"They will surface, given time. The proper stimulus will cause partial recall. Eventually, when enough gaps are filled, the rest will follow."

"So why can I remember things now?"

"Remember, dreams occur in the subconscious, where your memories are currently locked. That you can access them here is proof that they have indeed returned."

"Remind me why you brought me back, if it's so much trouble."

The goddesses almost seemed to sigh collectively. "You have proven yourself to be hero material, and to be worthy of the power of courage. It's rather difficult to be a hero when you're dead."

"Well, why not someone else?" Link asked. "Someone in a far better position to be a hero?"

"There _is_ no one else!"

Link fell silent. He'd never thought of it that way. "Oh,"

The weight of responsibility seemed very heavy now.

"Now," the goddesses said, "Perhaps it is time to tell you about the full extent of the gifts we have given you."

"What gifts?" Link scoffed. "The only thing you gave me is new life and this weird glowing triangle tattoo."

"Keep in mind, boy," the goddesses said icily, "That you are alive only of our will. It does not…benefit you to abuse our generosity."

"Yes, I'm…sorry, goddesses. I am just impatient to do what is assigned to me."

"You have no other reason to stay in the living world?"

"Why should I? My life is dedicated to service of the gods."

An uncomfortable silence followed. Faore cleared her throat and clapped her hands, breaking it. "Well, now. The, um, gifts. Yes."

Link raised an eyebrow. He failed to see what was so odd.

"Anyway," Faore continued. "You should know that the mark on your hand is a physical manifestation of a small amount of my power, known as the Triforce of Courage. This power has several benefits, which will become apparent as soon as your…" Faore paused, searching for the right word to describe Link's memory.

"…awareness returns. Increased strength and endurance, faster reflexes, the ability to withstand and survive far greater injuries than most. This is standard for all incidents in the past where these measures have been taken."

"The other incidents?"

"Irrelevant. Due to the fearsome odds you face this time, I have provided you with a greater measure of power than I would ordinarily. This is the power that created the world, and as such, the living world will now bend to your will, so to speak. To an extent, of course. Don't go thinking that you can just turn the sky green."

"This time? How often have you done this?"

"Didn't you just listen to what I said? You have the power to bend the world around you! Don't you find that intriguing at the very least?"

"At the moment, I couldn't care less. I'm wondering why I was brought back. You told me everything else, except that."

The goddess stayed silent. Link glared at her fearlessly, issuing a silent challenge. Finally, Faore lowered her head. "Very well," she growled.

She rejoined the other two goddesses, the three of them forming a triangle in the air. "See," they said.

Link's view of the spring faded, replaced by a towering structure reaching hundreds of metres into the sky. "Long ago, three beings were able to call us down, using a forbidden ritual that has been lost to the sands of time. This building, the Tower of the Gods, was used as the conduit for that ritual."

Three ribbons of light, one red, one green, one blue, wove around the tower.

"In exchange for a small boon, we provided them with a physical manifestation of our power. The Triforce."

The ribbons of light disappeared into the sky, leaving a golden triangle, composed of three others, behind. Moving together, the three figures on top of the tower moved to touch it.

"Each of the three triangles represents a different aspect of the mind. Power, wisdom, and courage. For one to possess all three, they must have an equal amount of each trait."

One of the figures on the tower produced a knife, ramming it into the back of another, wearing proud red robes.

"We were betrayed by a Gerudo named Ganondorf, a man more demon than human. He murdered the King of Hyrule, and turned on the king's bodyguard, a young man who shares the same name as you."

The third figure charged forward, drawing a sword from over his left shoulder. The two battled for several minutes, but the larger figure kicked the bodyguard in the chest, knocking him off the tower.

"He attempted to take the Triforce for himself, but did not possess all three traits. In this case, they are only able to take the segment that best describes them. He was only able to secure the Triforce of Power. This was good enough for him, and he used it to lay waste to Hyrule."

The figure stood before an army of twisted, foul beasts, poised before the gates of Castle Town.

"Just when all hope seemed lost, the bodyguard reappeared. He had been saved by the power of the Triforce of Courage. Standing beside him was the Princess of Hyrule, endowed with the power of wisdom. Standing together, they were able to defeat the dark man, and seal him away."

The man screamed, twisting in an attempt to avoid the light streaming from the palms of the bodyguard and the princess. He disappeared, banished from the world.

"Yet he escaped. Time and time again."

"Looks like you're not the best at taking prisoners," Link remarked.

The voice of the goddesses ignored him. "Each time, one hero was chosen by us to defeat him again. Each time, Ganondorf uses a different strategy. Now, he leads an army of men against our sacred lands. We have brought you back for this reason. You are the only one capable of defeating him."

The dream began to fade around Link. The final words of the Goddesses echoed in his ears.

"Like it or not, you are the chosen hero."


	12. Shift

The boy awoke, the last words of the goddesses echoing in his mind. _Like it or not, you are the chosen hero._

Of course, he couldn't remember who had said that, or why. Soon after, he forgot the words entirely. Whistling cheerfully, he strode out of the house, waving a cheery good-bye at the dead man still slumped at the table. Picking a direction at random, he walked, swinging his arms, a spring in his step. He had no idea why he was so cheerful, but decided to enjoy the mood while it lasted.

Several hours later, his walking had slowed down considerably. He slouched, panting, under the burning eye of the sun. The temperature had climbed into the high thirties, and he was getting tired.

He looked back where he came, noticing with despair that the ruins of Castle Town lay only a few leagues behind. "I have to have come farther than this," he moaned.

He looked toward a nearby hill. A tree grew on it, providing shade. _I have to be there,_ he thought, meaning that he needed shade.

All of a sudden, he was. _What-_

He looked around. For a moment, in some crazy impulse, he had imagined that he was there. For an instant, he knew it was so. And then, he was.

_Okay, this is weird._

He looked at a small grove in the distance. _I'm there._

And he was.

He looked around, amazed. He pinched himself on the right shoulder. No, he wasn't dreaming. Somehow, he had covered almost a league in the blink of an eye. He didn't to notice that the odd Triforce symbol on his hand was glowing brighter than normal.

He closed his eyes and concentrated, seeing if he could get to Zora's Domain. He had never been there, but had seen a painting of the throne room.

To his disappointment, nothing happened. He opened his eyes to the same grove of trees.

_Let's try again._

He faced north, toward the ruins of Castle Town.

_I'm in the main square._

He envisioned the ruined square in his mind, giving the mental picture as much detail as he could. The symbol on his hand glowed brighter as he concentrated. He opened his eyes, finding himself in the ruined square.

He looked around, bewildered. Somehow, he had the ability to go wherever he wanted. He just had to know the area well.

He jumped in the air, punching the sky. "Awesome!" he yelled.

Four slavers walked around the corner, carrying valuables pillaged from the destroyed homes. They stopped, staring at the boy. He stared back.

_Oh, man, more bad people._

Dropping the jewelry and antiques, the slavers drew wicked swords and charged. The boy recoiled, frantically searching for a way to escape. His mind raced as he tried to imagine himself somewhere else. Anywhere, as long as it wasn't here.

The slavers stopped, confused. The ragged-looking traveler had simply disappeared. One of them jumped forward, slashing wildly, thinking he had turned invisible, or something more plausible than simply disappearing into thin air. Finding nothing, the slavers collected the discarded valuables, casting a wary eye at the square. One of them spat between forked fingers, a sign to ward off evil.

Minutes later, they returned to the castle and drank away their troubles. Come next morning, the entire event had dissolved into an alcoholic fog.

Link found himself just outside the destroyed walls of the city. Panting, he moved himself to the grove three leagues away. He stayed there a moment to recover.

Glancing back north, he snorted softly. "Guess I'm not going back there," he muttered. He looked south, the direction he was setting out in. "At least this'll make finding other people easier."

With that, he Shifted.

Kalo consulted his map as the sun set. After a moment, he nodded, satisfied. They had covered an astonishing nine leagues. Granted, the refugees were exhausted, but overall morale was high. It was quite surprising what a difference merely having a goal made.

Stretching, Kalo walked through the camp. He took a moment to check on the few horses that had escaped from the city. His father, being a horse trader, had instilled in him a great sense of empathy for the animals, and the ability to tell at a glance what was ailing them.

Kalo smiled gently, rubbing the horses between the ears. Suddenly, his smile faded. He glanced at the horses again, doing a quick head count. Twenty-seven. There had only been twenty-six when he last visited. And what was one of the horses doing with its bridal still on? Didn't the grooms know that they chafed if left on for too-

"Gods above!" Kalo breathed.

He rushed into the stall, finally recognizing the bridled horse. He knew it well. General Link frequently rode the horse when accompanying Zelda. He brushed dust off the horse's bridle, exposing the brass nametag. Embossed into the metal was the name _Epona._

Kalo laughed, wrapping his arms around the horse's neck, tears streaming down his face. Maybe all was not lost after all.

Ganondorf sat in his throne, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"How many were killed?" he asked.

The slaver in front of him swallowed, white-faced. "We have located fifty-four bodies so far, and more keep turning up. Sixty of our brothers are still unaccounted for. Whoever…or whatever got in may have killed up to a hundred men."

Ganondorf stared into the distance. These were grave tidings. "Search the castle. The killer may still be here. I want him alive."

"My Lord," the slaver protested, "we have already searched the castle in case of that very possibility. There is no chance that-"

"Search again," Ganon growled.

The slaver, a well-respected Catcher, bowed and left the room. Ganon frowned at his receding back. The Ferusari were improving, but they still had yet to learn proper respect. Ganondorf's goal was to turn them into a disciplined fighting force to rival the legendary Whirlwinds he had faced three hundred years ago.

_What to do, what to do,_ he mused. His army could survive off the castle stores just fine, and his reinforcements were weeks away. There wasn't any need to do anything, but Ganon was sick of sitting. His experiments were proving fruitful, at least. He had managed to keep them secret from the others, and the end products surpassed his wildest expectations. Thirty slavers had been…improved, only one batch having failed.

After some consideration, he finally concluded that, with his depleted forces, there was nothing he could do at the moment. The conclusion annoyed him, but there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

Shaking his head in resignation, he called in one of the "improved" slavers. He still had to come up with a name for them. The man walked in, seeming no different, except for one thing: his skin was pale as a corpse, and his eyes were completely black, as if orbs of polished obsidian had been set into the sockets.

The slaver regarded Ganondorf calmly. Ganon got up, and proceeded to do something he'd been meaning to do for a while: perform an in-depth assessment of the full nature of the slaver's improvement.

At the very least, it would occupy him for a time.

The boy Shifted from place to place, following a straight line. While it afforded a much faster mode of travel, it required a large amount of willpower. After about an hour, Link's mind was exhausted, and he gave up Shifting in favour of walking. His last Shifts had only taken him a few dozen metres, anyway.

Several hours later, he still hadn't seen anyone, or any signs of civilization.

Yawning, he lay down against the trunk of a tree. If he'd bothered to look at the stars, he would have seen why he hadn't seen anyone: he had strayed off course, arcing toward the west. After covering almost a hundred leagues, the boy now found himself approaching Hyrule's western frontier, far from any civilization.

Just before he drifted off, his gaze fell on a cliff overlooking a dense forest. As he saw it, he had the oddest feeling. It was a sense of déjà vu, as if he'd been there before. Something stirred in his mind, but fell back into its depths.


	13. Thieves' Domain

The boy awoke the next morning as the sun rose into the sky. He rose and stretched, feeling the vertebrae in his back pop into position. He opened his eyes, and frowned.

Three rough-looking men were standing in front of him, naked blades grasped in their hands, except for one, who was holding a pair of small ball-and-chains. The boy slowly stretched out his hands, palms outward. "Robbing me would be pointless. I don't have a Rupee on me."

The men ignored him. "What do you do when you get home?" one barked in lightly accented Hylian. He looked in his mid-twenties, although a scarf obscured his features.

The boy frowned, uncomprehending. What kind of stupid question was that? Suddenly, something dawned on him. He glanced back toward the bluff, eyes widening. The question…the cliff…he_ had_ been here before!

Something exploded into his mind. Memory. Three years ago. He came here for help…code phrase…secret city…after me…

The boy put a hand to his temple, fingers touching the small scar there.

The leader gave him an odd look. "What's wrong with you? You sick in the head?"

The boy waved a hand, still sorting through the dizzying flood of memory. It was only a fragment, but it was still overwhelming. "I'm fine. Sorry. You were saying?"

The leader frowned, repeating his earlier query.

"Why, steal a pie of Rosie's windowsill, of course," the boy responded, the phrase echoing from his newfound memories.

The leader visibly relaxed as he heard the code phrase. The three thieves sheathed their knives, looking far more at ease.

"You been here before?" the leader asked.

"Yes. Three years ago. I was being tracked by the Guard."

The leader nodded in sympathy. "I feel you, man. Those guys are just doin' their job, but man, are they annoying."

He cleared his throat, gesturing to the small pass they were approaching. "Doesn't matter. You'll be safe here."

He extended a scarred hand. "Name's Firebrand, by the way. Well, not actually, but it's what I go by. It's as good as a name."

The boy shook the offered hand, aware of an awkward silence. Firebrand cleared his throat again.

"You, uh…you got a name?" Firebrand said after a long pause.

The boy paused, considering. _Do I have a name?_ he thought. _I remember this place. Maybe I can remember my name._

He searched through the scant memories that returned to him, finding nothing. Wait.

_Running through an alley. Pursuer behind. He yells something. "You aint getting' away that easy!"_

_Pursuer stops, panting. "I know your name, Link!" he yells. "I know your name!"_

Something in his mind clicked. Link. That was his name. It fit.

"Link," he said. "My name's Link."

"Link?" Firebrand replied. "Weird name, man. Whatever. So's Firebrand."

Link followed Firebrand into the pass, which seemed to go on forever. _One man could hold this for hours,_ he thought idly. The pass was only wide enough for three men abreast to fit through, maybe a small wagon.

About twenty minutes later, they exited from the pass. Link stopped, stunned.

Before him lay a bustling city that stretched over a larger expanse than Castle Town. Although ramshackle, it was an entire self-contained community. Looking around, Link spotted dozens of farms on the outskirts, and several large holes that had to be mines.

"Cool, huh? Still gets me every time."

Firebrand indicated the city. "Welcome to Thieves' Domain."

Recovering, Link began walking toward the city. He glanced behind him, only to find that the other two had disappeared. Firebrand removed his scarf, revealing friendly, boyish features. "Whoo! Hot with that thing on."

"So," Link said conversationally, "I presume you're responsible for security?"

Firebrand shook his head. "Nope. I just happened upon you a few hours ago. Figured I might as well check you out."

"And the other two guys?"

Firebrand gave him a sober look. "Backup, in case things got nasty."

Link nodded. That made sense.

"So, I take it you don't have a place to stay, and you're broke."

"Essentially, yes."

"That sucks, man. This city's tough. How 'bout you stay with me?"

Link raised an eyebrow. "I hardly even know you."

Firebrand laughed. "Yeah, but if you wanted to kill me, you'd probably have done it by now."

He lowered his voice. "Just one thing, though. If you show up and there's a belt on the doorknob, find something else to do."

He winked, grinning.

Link looked away, mildly embarrassed. "I'll tell you one thing," Firebrand continued. "There's no place where it's easier to get lucky that Thieves' Domain."

"Okay, too much detail!" Link said, face flaming red.

Firebrand laughed, and to Link's relief, changed the topic.

A few minutes later, Firebrand stopped in front of a house that looked slightly less decrepit than all the others. He tried the knob, searching through his pockets after he discovered it was locked.

After a moment, he looked up, a sheepish look on his face. "Aw, hell. Locked the key inside again."

With that, he backed up and kicked in the door. He walked in, whistling cheerfully. Removing a hammer and a couple nails from a drawer, he nailed a new piece of scrap wood to the doorframe, which was splintered beyond repair. From the amount of nail-holes in the frame, Link could tell this had been done several times before.

Apart from the splintered door, the house was in surprisingly good condition. The support beams along the ceiling showed no signs of rot, and the floors were clean. The accommodations were very Spartan, but adding a couple flowers could even make the place charming.

Firebrand gestured to a side room. "You can use this one. I keep it set up in case a buddy needs somewhere to stay."

"Thanks," Link said, momentarily taken aback by his generosity. "Thanks a lot."

Firebrand grinned. "Not used to people helping you out, are you? We might fight all the time out there, but in this city, we've got everyone's back."

He clapped his hands together. "So, we're going to have to see what we can do about getting you some cash. Robbing someone's out of the question, so I suppose you'll have to find a job."

"What kind of job?" Link asked nervously.

Firebrand shuffled from foot to foot. "Well…"


	14. Echoes

Link angrily swung his pickaxe at the wall, the impact sending stone chips everywhere. _Stupid Firebrand,_ he thought.

"The only place to work is the mine," he mocked under his breath. "Pay's good, and it's not as bad as it sounds. Bullshit!"

He swung the pickaxe again, exposing a little more of the vein of iron. A couple sizeable chunks already lay beside him. Link had been proud of it, but had seen other miners with piles three times the size.

Link swore, swinging the pickaxe again. What Firebrand hadn't mentioned was that the miners were paid based on how much iron they mined.

Link swung again, putting some venom behind it. The axe head struck the wall at an awkward angle, sending painful vibrations into Link's hands.

Growling, he swung the pickaxe as hard as he could. The axe head rebounded off the wall, coupled with a sickening crack. Link glanced down, noticing a large split running along the handle. Tossing the useless axe aside, Link glared at the stubborn iron lode.

He quickly looked around, deciding to try something. He closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to figure out what he did when Shifting himself. After a few moments, he realized he could still see the world around him, as a series of interconnected lines. Link stretched out with his mind, probing the lump he knew was the iron lode.

Concentrating, he rearranged the lines, bringing the collection of lines that made up the iron lode toward him. Yet they simply fell back into place. Link tried again. The world _would_ submit. He could move himself, therefore he should be able to move a stupid little chunk of iron…

Link felt a slight shift. Opening his eyes, he saw the chunk of iron, free of the stone, in front of him. Grinning, he tried again, reaching out to find more iron. Although everything seemed to be made up of a three-dimensional gridwork, Link could instantly tell what everything was. He located another iron lode in this fashion, and Shifted it out of the rock.

After a few minutes, Link had a respectable pile of iron ore in front of him. Link slumped, his forehead bathed in sweat. Moving other objects proved much more taxing than moving himself.

Still, he was satisfied. Now he could justify getting a new pickaxe.

Hours later, Link exited the mine, squinting against the sunlight. He was exhausted, grimy and was pretty sure he had pulled something in his shoulder, but just over two hundred Rupees now rattled in his pockets.

He entered the city with the other miners, following the directions Firebrand had given him. Although he could vaguely remember the city's layout, he didn't trust the fragments. _I'll have to see what I can do about getting those back,_ Link mused. If he could remember Thieves' Domain, there must be other memories buried in his skull.

Groaning, he walked toward Firebrand's house, opening the door with the key he had been given earlier. He entered freely, poking his head into Firebrand's room. "Hey Firebrand, do you know where the-"

Then he noticed the woman in the bed with Firebrand. And a lot more he didn't really want to see.

"Son of a bitch!" he yelled, shielding his eyes.

In the room, Firebrand quickly gathered the blankets around him and the woman. "Dammit, Link! Didn't you see the belt on the door?"

"There was no belt on the door!" Link yelled, still covering his eyes.

Firebrand smacked his forehead. "Awww, shit! I knew I forgot something."

He chuckled to himself. "Tell you what, come back in, say, twenty minutes or so. Baths are in the main square, by the way."

Link almost ran out of the house. Just before he closed the door, he heard Firebrand say, "So, where were we?"

"God dammit!" Link muttered, slamming the door. It was then that he noticed that he'd left the key inside. He swore again, stomping off toward the baths.

Exactly twenty minutes later, Link returned, feeling a lot better. It was surprising the morale boost just being clean gave. He knocked on the door. "Is everything okay, or should I leave again?"

"Nope. Come on in."

"I locked my key inside."

"You mean _my_ spare key?"

"Yeah. Fine. Whatever. Let me in."

The door opened, and Firebrand stepped out. "I was thinking more along the lines of hitting the nearest bar," he said.

Link frowned. "I'm pretty sure I don't drink."

He was pretty sure, but couldn't remember.

Firebrand waved a hand dismissively. "Whatever. You will after tonight."

He turned and walked down the road. "Follow me," he called over his shoulder. "I know a good place."

Firebrand was right about it being a good bar. The food was quite good, and its beer, although Link had nothing to base it on, was excellent. After three of them, Link was sure that he didn't drink, mainly because he was getting quite buzzed.

"So, how does this city survive, if it's cut off from the outside world?" Link asked, slurring slightly.

Firebrand made a sweeping gesture with his hand. "You saw the fields and stuff coming in, right? We get food from there, metal from the mines, and anything else from nomads in the west. We're cut off from Hyrule, not the rest of the world."

"The kingdom must really have suffered then, if there's an entire city of thieves."

Firebrand glared at him. "I'm going to let that one go, since I like you. But don't mention that again."

"Besides," he continued, leaning back precariously, "not everyone here is a thief. Most of the people are either sell-swords or falsely accused. There is the odd crime lord, but it's not so much Thieves' Domain as People-who-aren't-generally-accepted-in-Hylian-society's Domain. Thieves' Domain is just less of a mouthful."

"Oh," Link said, sipping at another mug of beer. For some reason, he found it difficult to keep his balance. The floor seemed to be tipping back and forth.

Link let his mind wander, and found himself listening in on other patrons' conversations. A pair of men walked by, chatting. "So, what's old Ponzu got you on now?"

The name rang in Link's head like a gong hit with a sledgehammer. He jerked, and fell out of his seat. A couple patrons looked over and had a quiet chuckle, but it went unnoticed for the most part. Firebrand frowned at Link as he got up. "You okay, man?"

"Yes. No. I don't know." Link said, immediately sober. "The name Ponzu mean anything to you?"

"Ponzu?" Firebrand replied, frown deepening. "He's one of the more well-known crime lords here. Gained quite a following in the last few years."

"Crime lord," Link muttered, searching through the new memories that had exploded into his head. Ponzu was a crime lord then…he was the guy who-

"Oh, no," Link moaned.

"What?"

"I'm a little high on his hit list." Link said sheepishly.

"Who, Ponzu?" Firebrand shook his head. "What the hell did you do?"

Link looked away. "The first time I was here, I had an…altercation with him."

"What. Did. You. Do?"

Link winced. "Killed three of his men and stole from his artifact collection."

"Oh, shit." Firebrand said. "We're fucked."

"It _has_ been three years," Link suggested.

Firebrand shook his head. "Won't make any difference. If there's anyone who can hold a grudge, it's Ponzu."

He slammed a fist down on the table. "Why the hell did you come back here?"

"Look, I just remembered!" Link said, temper flaring.

"Oh, so you just forgot that one of the biggest crime lords here is out to kill you?"

"Hey! It's not my fault!" Link protested. "I can't remember anything! I barely remember coming here!"

Firebrand paused, taken aback. "You lose your memory or something?"

"I think so."

"Well," Firebrand said, raising a finger for the bar tab. "That explains a lot."

Link looked over at Ponzu's men nervously. 'We should probably leave."

"Way ahead of you," Firebrand replied, tossing a red Rupee on the table. "We're gone."

Link followed him out the door, leading him into a side alley. The whole time, he kept checking over his shoulder. "Stop that," Firebrand hissed. "You draw more attention to yourself when you look all paranoid like that."

"Those two guys," Link said. "I'm pretty sure they recognized me. They gave me a knowing look when I went out."

"In that case," Firebrand replied, "We should probably move a little faster."

Link checked over his shoulder again. Three people were behind him. "We need to be gone _now_," he hissed. "We're being tailed."

Firebrand sighed. "There you are, being paranoid again. They're probably just…"

Moonlight reflected off a naked blade in the hands of one of them. "Crap," Firebrand muttered. "Follow me. We can probably lose them."

"I'm not taking that chance," Link growled. He moved forward and grabbed Firebrand's arm. "Don't ask any questions," he hissed.

With that, he closed his eyes, and Shifted them to Firebrand's house. They appeared in the main room. Firebrand looked around, eyes wide. "What the hell was that?" he squeaked. "How'd we get here?"

"I said no questions!" Link snapped. "Get what you need, and I'll get us out of here."

Firebrand gave him a wary look, shook his head, and went into his room. He returned a moment later with a small pack and his ball-and-chains. "Ready to go," he said.

Nodding, Link grabbed his arm and Shifted them both to the tree where Firebrand had found him. "Just one question," Link said after looking around. "Why are you sticking with me?"

"Hey, I'm in shit too!" Firebrand protested. "Guilt by association!"

"Besides," he said, lowering his voice. "Going with you is interesting. Things have been getting a little boring lately."

He looked around. "So, where to?"

Link shrugged. "I have no idea. I lost my memory, remember? I would prefer a major city, but it's entirely up to you."

Firebrand pulled out a map, studying it for a second. "How about Castle Town?" he suggested. "I've got some friends there, and Ponzu wouldn't dare go near it."

"Where is it?" Link asked, feeling uneasy.

"Right over here," Firebrand said, tapping the map.

Link studied the map. The location Firebrand had given was identical to where he had…appeared. "Are there any ruins near it?"

"Uh, no. Why?"

"Then it's been completely destroyed," Link said flatly. "The only building still standing is the castle. The remains are occupied by some very unfriendly people."

Firebrand paled. "I heard rumors…they were true?"

"Seems so," Link replied. "Any other ideas?"

Firebrand tapped a spot on the map. "Our next best option would probably be Belmange. It's another major city, and reasonably close to Castle Town."

"How far away?" Link asked.

"Twenty or so leagues, due northwest."

Link nodded, grabbing Firebrand's arm again. After a few minutes of intense concentration, he managed to Shift them to the grove.

Firebrand looked around as they reappeared. "Where are we _now_?"

"A grove several leagues north of Castle Town," Link replied, sagging. Shifting both himself and someone else was just plain exhausting. "I'm afraid we'll have to walk the rest of the way. I can't take us any farther."

Firebrand gave him a concerned look. "You okay?"

Link waved a hand. "I'm fine. It's just…taxing. I need to rest."

Within minutes, he was asleep.

Firebrand stayed for a moment, watching him. After a minute, he got up and gathered some firewood. After building a small campfire, he searched his pockets for matches, finding none.

After a brief bout of swearing, he looked over at Link, making sure he was asleep. Then he touched his finger to a piece of kindling. Moments later, the fire was blazing.

Firebrand sat back and watched it, thinking. He had thought he was different. Unique. Now, with Link, everything was different. What was unique became…ordinary.

_One thing's for sure,_ he thought, tossing a branch on the fire. _Things are going to get pretty interesting._


	15. Graduation

Ganondorf sat in his throne, musing, as he did so often lately. His latest experiment, an enchanted crystal that allowed for instant communication, had worked perfectly, and had been supplied to all recon teams.

A slaver stood in front of him, rigidly at attention. "Your Excellency," he began.

Ganon held up a hand, cutting him off. "Have you ever had a goal that seems unattainable, and suddenly achieved it? How empty and useless it seems, afterward."

"I can't say that I have, my Lord," the slaver replied.

"No matter," Ganon said. "You had something to ask about?"

"Yessir. The…things you created. A few of the others are a little nervous about using them. Especially after seeing the..." his mouth contorted in distaste "…improved slavers."

"Yes, my finest success," Ganon said. "Has anyone come up with a name for them, by the way?"

The slaver paused for a moment. "Reapers," he finally said. "They call them Reapers."

"Reapers," Ganon said, rolling the name around. "Yes, it works. Reapers."

He paused for a moment, staring into space. The slaver shifted uncomfortably. Ganon had been demonstrating many such irregularities, and many of the slavers were fearing for his sanity.

"Now," Ganon said, focusing again. "Your request?"

The slaver swallowed. Suddenly, the complaint didn't seem so important. "Several of the others have been experiencing misgivings about using the crystals. A few think they're weapons. Several others are convinced they're brainwashing devices."

Ganon chuckled. "Tell them not to worry. Unlike my previous creations, the crystals are harmless. Of that, I can assure you."

"There is another, rather recent event that may concern you. One of the recon teams has reported, through the crystals, that they found a group of people who appear to be Hylian soldiers. There is one civilian, who is suspected to be of some importance. Perhaps she can lead us to the Princess, the refugees, or both."

Ganon leaned forward. This was interesting. "Where are they?"

"They appear to be making for the Wood of Illusions. Perhaps they intend to take shelter there."

"I will not let them," Ganon said grimly. "Tell the recon team to watch them carefully, but not to engage under any circumstances."

"What do you intend to do, sir?"

Ganon grinned. "I'm going to send the Reapers for a test run."

The weather that day was fair in Belmange. The city was quiet, every citizen having retreated to their beds. News of the fall of Castle Town had not reached the city yet.

All was still, except for one thing: atop a watch tower, two people appeared to be dancing. Under closer inspection, it became apparent that they were actually dueling, wielding wooden practice swords.

The one figure pushed the other back with a quick flurry of strikes, the sound of wood striking wood echoing across the city. Playing the sword in a circle, the dueler pressed its advantage, sneaking past the other's guard and striking him on the collarbone.

"Dead," the winner pronounced, stepping back.

A lean, bearded man stepped forward, applauding lightly. "Well done, Sera. Well done indeed."

Sera smiled, bowing respectfully to her opponent, a servant of the Belmange High Council.

"Yes, impressive," the instructor continued. "But sloppy! Your forms are well rehearsed, but still quite raw. And your transitions! You should_ flow_ from form to form. Half the time I was pretty sure you weren't even using forms!"

Sera bowed her head, her hopes of graduation crushed. "I'm sorry, Master," she said. "I'll try to do better next time."

"There won't be a next time," her instructor growled.

He pressed something into her hand. Sera looked at it dumbly. It was a medallion that bore the combat school's insignia, silver rimmed with gold. It was reserved for graduating students.

"But I…I don't understand!" she blurted, meeting her instructor's eyes. "I thought I failed!"

The instructor, an enigmatic old man who they knew only as Master, smiled warmly. "I said you weren't using proper forms. What I just saw was a brilliant display of improvisation. And as for your transitions, they may seem sloppy to my eye, but you have clearly developed your own unique fighting style. The point is, it works. How could I not graduate you after that display!"

A couple of the other students grumbled quietly.

"Quiet, you," Master growled. "Last time I checked, Sera had defeated all of you. Don't whine just because she's a girl."

He bowed in her direction. "I can think of no one more worthy of this honour than you, Sera."

"Thank you Master," Sera said, tears forming in her eyes. "I…thank you."

She still couldn't resist thumbing her nose at a couple of the other students when Master wasn't looking. Peer relationships in the school were tense at best.

Sera walked out of the guard tower, a graduate of the Belmange Combat School. After meeting Link, she realized she had to learn how to defend herself, and enrolled immediately, where she quickly moved to the top of the class.

She hadn't heard a word from Link since he left nine months before. Not that it would have mattered. Sera had spent almost the entire span of time under the tutelage of Master, learning the sword.

Sera slowly walked down the streets of Belmange, wearing the medallion proudly. From the tower, the _clack_ of wood striking wood resumed, punctuated by the odd curse of suggestion from Master.

An odd man, he was. He refused to say anything about his past, or mention anything about the wicked scar on his chest. For some reason, he reminded Sera of someone, although she couldn't put her finger on it.

Sighing heavily, Sera retired to her room in the Five Rings, a small inn preferred by Master's students. She opened her wallet, frowning at the small amount of Rupees inside. She needed to "earn" some more. Exhausted from seven continuous hours of swordplay, she lay down on the bed, and was asleep before her head even touched the pillow.

Her sword gleamed dully in the corner of the room. From time to time, Sera had turned it over in her hands, marveling at its craftsmanship. The blade had been shrouded in mystery ever since it had been given to her.

On one of her "excursions," Sera had happened across a blacksmith's forge in the middle of nowhere. Sera herself had gotten lost, and had found herself in what she later learned was the Wood of Illusions, a wild, untamed forest that many stayed clear of.

The blacksmith had greeted her warmly, and invited her in. Metalwork was everywhere: intricate works of silver and gold, weapons and armor, delicate sculpture; it was somewhat overwhelming at first. After talking for a few minutes, the blacksmith began looking at her strangely.

"I think I'll make something for you," he had said hesitantly.

Sera protested, but was disregarded. "I know what I want to do. I feels right."

With that, he had taken some steel rods and began working. He hammered in the forge for two full days. When he came out, he was holding a beautifully ornate sword, delicately trimmed in gold leaf etching and complicated inlays on the pommel.

Yet, despite its delicate appearance, it was a fine blade, forged in a manner that gave it unbelievable strength. After giving her the sword, the blacksmith had smiled gently and returned to his house, leaving Sera clutching the tool of death, scared and confused.

"Let it serve as a reminder," he had said over his shoulder. "Remember me when the time comes."

"What time?" Sera asked desperately. "What's so important? I don't understand!"

She had given chase, following him into the house, but finding only an abandoned wreck. The metalwork had long since rusted away or been stolen, and the forge was cold and dead. Nobody had lived there for years.

Yet one thing stuck with her above all else: although the man was a skilled blacksmith, he was completely blind.

The origins of the sword wasn't the only thing Sera had kept secret. What she had told Link, about running away from home, was true. What she didn't mention was that it had been much longer than he thought.

Sera hadn't seen her father or her home for three years.


	16. Return

From time to time, Sera wondered what things would be like if she hadn't left. What would have happened if she'd just stayed home. Then, she would reflect on how boring and stuffy her old life was, and the things she discovered while in the outside world.

And, of course, she never would have met Link.

Although she only knew him for a couple days, that strange boy made such an impact on her life. He had shown her the naïveté of her actions. Traveling without a care in the world, ignorant and helpless…that was no way to do it. Her encounter with the bandits proved that. Sera fully believed that Link saved her life there.

Although she was indebted to him, she still felt sympathy. All he cared about was duty. All he _had_ was duty. He had felt that swearing himself to Zelda had been his only path. Sera knew better. A life of servitude wasn't a life at all. The way Sera saw it, he died the day his life was destroyed.

Kalo's back was sore from hours in the saddle. He, like every other refugee, was physically exhausted, sleep-deprived, and starving. Yet their goal was in sight.

Belmange lay little over a league to the north. Kalo had already dispatched a couple horsemen to notify the High Council of their arrival. Hopefully, they were in an accommodating mood. He had no doubt that there was enough room, assuming the spare barracks left over from the Great War were still standing, but the High Council was bound to tie him up with red tape.

"Stupid bureaucrats," he grumbled.

Epona flicked her ear. Kalo smiled, rubbing her neck. After she had appeared in the camp, Kalo had taken it onto himself to take care of her. He owed Link that much.

"You don't care about that at all, do you? You're just happy to be alive."

His smile faded. "If only human's lives were so simple."

Judging from the lead rope dangling from Epona's halter, it seemed like a forgetful groom had neglected to tie her up properly. The horse must have been spooked by the cannon fire, and broken out of the stall, joining up with the rest of the refugees the next day.

_Link really got lucky on this one,_ Kalo thought. _Quite a remarkable animal._

Kalo yawned, four sleepness days beginning to take their toll. "Stay awake, old boy. Just a bit further."

Sera walked the streets of Belmange, allowing herself to be lost in a daze. After all that hard work, painstaking effort and nitpicking precision, she had graduated as full swordswoman.

The sound of hooves on cobblestones interrupted her reverie. Sera turned, giving the exhausted-looking Hylian Guard her patented Look.

The guard stopped at Sera's icy glare, swallowing uncomfortably. "Sorry to bug you, but do you…eh…do you know which way it is to the council buildings?"

Sera pointed wordlessly down the street. The guard bobbed his head, flushing. "Th-thanks."

He started moving, but stopped when Sera spoke. "What's so important?" she asked, curiosity overcoming annoyance.

The guard gave her a flat look. "Haven't you heard anything?"

Sera shook her head.

The soldier slumped. "Oh. That makes things difficult." He paused for a moment. "Four days ago, Castle Town was attacked. Best guess is the Ferusari. We evacuated the city, which fell the next day."

He gestured to the outskirts. "We have sixteen thousand refugees out there. I need to explain our situation to the High Council in hopes that they'll give us some assistance."

Sera said nothing, her face white. Castle Town? Fallen? It simply wasn't possible.

"Any word of the royal family?" she asked, wondering about Link.

The soldier shook his head. "Nothing. No sign of them, or General Link, for that matter. Last I heard, they were presumed dead."

_General? He certainly made a mark._ Then the soldier's words registered. "Dead? All of them?"

The soldier shrugged. "Most of the minor nobles are with us, but the princess is gone. Neither her or General Link would allow themselves to be captured alive."

Sera was quite surprised by the amount of pain that news caused. Of course, news of the death of any member of the royal family was a sorrowful tiding, but news of Link overshadowed that.

"Was he about seventeen, sandy blond hair, scar on the right temple?"

The soldier gave her an odd look. "You know General Link?"

So it was him. Sera closed her eyes for a moment. "Yes. I knew him before he was a general."

The soldier placed his hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. Was he a close friend?"

"No. I barely even knew him."

Link and Firebrand appeared on a grassy plain half a league from the city. Almost immediately, Link swayed and collapsed. Firebrand swore. "You idiot. I told you that was a bad idea."

Link lay on the ground, eyes tightly closed, trembling slightly. His eyes moved wildly under the lids. Firebrand ignored him. "Don't play games with me, Link. You know as well as I do not to push yourself."

Link's trembling turned into spastic jerks as his body went into seizure. Firebrand frowned. "Link?"

He knelt at Link's side. "Oh, shit. Link!"

Link's eyes opened, clear once again. The thrashing of his limbs stopped. Shakily, he got to his feet and started walking toward the city.

Firebrand gaped at him. "What the hell was that?"

"Dunno. Side effect." Link was staring straight ahead, lips pressed in a thin line.

"Side effect? Looks more like epilepsy to me."

"I'm…fine," Link managed.

"No you're not!" Firebrand exploded. "You're in no condition to keep going. You weren't in any condition even _before_ you Shifted us here!"

"I can rest once we get to the city," Link growled. For some reason, it seemed terribly important that he make it to Belmange before morning.

Firebrand glared at him, formulating a retort, but something drew his gaze. He walked toward it, mouth hanging open. "Goddesses," he breathed. "Link, come here. You gotta see this."

"What?" Link responded irritably, walking to where his friend stood. "What's so-"

His ill-tempered question died on his lips as he beheld the sight in front of him. An immense crowd of people slowly made their way toward the gates of the city, which stood open, a small array of calvalry riding out toward the crowd.

"These must be the Castle Town refugees," Firebrand breathed. "That explains why I never heard anything. This can't have happened more than a few days ago."

The refugees clutched a pathetic array of belongings, rarely more than a small pack of clothes. Many more carried only the clothes on their backs.

"What happened?"

Firebrand turned to Link. "That's what I'd like to know. Who…or what…could destroy an entire city in a day?"

Link staggered.

"_Get down!" Link screamed, dropping to the battlements. The strange weapons roared again, turning the battlements into hell. Link crouched, screaming, as man-sized chunks of stone were sent flying._

_Something landed beside Link with a thump. He stared at it dumbly. It was a severed arm._

"I was there?" he whispered to himself.

Firebrand groaned. "Great. What do you remember now? Did you get yourself exiled from Castle Town now?"

"No. I remember…the attack? Why was I in Castle Town when it was attacked? It doesn't make sense."

Firebrand turned away, mumbling something that sounded like "Can't _wait_ for the rest of them."

Link watched the massive crowd begin to file into the city. "Let's go," he said, moving toward the gate.

"While thousands of refugees get into the city? Are you crazy? It'll be chaos!"

"Hey, look on the bright side," Link said, grinning. "We'll get into the city easier."

Firebrand frowned. "Alongside a fuckload of refugees?"

Link shrugged. "We won't get accosted by guards. I could be a fugitive, remember?"

Firebrand sighed. "Good point."


	17. Do I Know You?

Link ducked his head slightly, pulling the hood of his cloak a little lower. The guard ignored him, staring blankly at the crowd of refugees. Behind him, Firebrand cursed quietly, looking around warily. For the umpteenth time, he tapped Link on the shoulder. "Remind me why we're here," he hissed.

Link shrugged. "Don't ask me. You suggested we go here."

Defeated by logic, Firebrand shrank back, grumbling. Link sighed, scanning the crowd. _Need to find somewhere to stay. The crowd might make that difficult._ Hopefully, an innkeeper may be persuaded to give up a room for double rent.

Motioning to Firebrand, Link elbowed his way through the crowd, ducking down a side alley. Although it placed him at greater risk, it avoided detection. A large man, obviously drunk, bumped into him as he entered the alley. "Sorry," the drunk mumbled, melting into the crowd.

Reflexively, Link checked his pockets. His wallet was gone. Link shrugged, patting the Rupees stored in an inside pocket. Whoever the drunk was, he was going to get a nasty surprise. Sure enough, a high-pitched screech sounded from the crowd as the mousetrap hidden in the wallet snapped on the drunk's fingers. Link smiled. Some things never got old.

After a few more seconds, Firebrand stumbled into the alley. "What was that?" he asked, giving Link a sidelong glance. "Nothing," Link replied innocently, walking along the alley.

"So," he said, once Firebrand had caught his breath. "Know any good inns here?"

Firebrand scratched his head. "I know a few good _bars_. I was generally too drunk to notice what inn they were taking me to."

Link sighed. So much for that. "I'll just try that one, then," he said, nodding toward the Three Kings, a small inn sandwiched between a Gerudo restaurant and a barber shop. "Maybe get you a shave, too," Link added.

"No way. I'm starting to like the beard," Firebrand replied, stroking the four-day growth.

Link shook his head. "Trust me. You look like a street bum."

Link entered the inn, leaving Firebrand at the barber's, and approached the innkeeper. "I'd like to rent a room for the night," he announced.

The innkeeper glared at him. "The rooms are reserved for citizens of Belmange. Not refugees from who-knows-where."

Link reached into his pocket, nonchalantly placing a red Rupee on the counter. "Perhaps you can be persuaded."

The innkeeper stared at the gem for a moment, and then made it disappear. "I'm sure some accommodation can be made, Master..."

"Bago," Link said, giving a made-up name. While among the refugees, he had heard some of them talking about a "General Link". The last thing he wanted was to be mistaken for him.

"Master Bago," the innkeeper finished. "Welcome to Belmange, and the Three Kings."

Kalo slowly walked into the city with the rest of the refugees. "The High Council have made accommodations?"

"Yes sir," an attendant answered. "We were able to house them in the old military barracks."

Kalo smiled weakly. "Good. Know any good inns?"

The attendant thought for a moment. "I personally recommend the Golden Horn. It's reasonably close, clean and charges a reasonable amount."

"I'll go there. Thank you." Within minutes, Kalo had found the inn and rented a room. Tipping the bellhop, he fell onto the bed fully clothed, and was asleep within minutes.

Having delivered the refugees safely, Kalo now slept for the first time in five days.

Link awoke early in the morning with an odd feeling. Something was amiss. Moving slowly, he reached under the pillow, wrapping his fingers around the hilt of the knife there.

A quiet rustle confirmed Link's suspicions. Opening his eyes, Link sprang out of bed, knife flashing.

Only to have it blocked by another, seemingly drawn from the thieves' sleeve. Link swore, moving to block the room's exit. It was then that he got his first good look at the thief.

He-or she, for the thieves' frame was very slight- feinted forward with the knife, quickly stowing Link's real wallet in a pocket. "Dammit," Link muttered, keeping a wary eye on the blade.

The thief feinted again, and Link fell for it, his knife reflexively moving into a blocking position. Seizing the opening, the thief darted forward, knife opening a bloody trench along Link's forearm.

Crying out, Link dropped the knife, clutching his bleeding arm. The thief stood in front of him for a moment, obviously debating whether to kill him or not. Apparently, he/she decided his death would simply complicate matters, and ran out of the room, quickly stowing the knife.

Before the thief left, though, Link caught a glimpse of flowing, dark blond hair. A girl, then.

Gritting his teeth, Link stomped to the other side of the room and kicked Firebrand awake. "Ow! Dammit! That was completely unnecessary!"

His eyes focused on Link's bleeding arm. "What happened to you?"

"What happened? _What happened?_ We got robbed, idiot! She wouldn't have got past me if you'd woken up, you useless stone head!"

Firebrand frowned. "Wait a minute. Nobody talks to me like..."

A wide grin spread across his face. "Wait. _She_ got past you?" He laughed. "Now I see why you're so mad!"

"Really? Why's that?" Link replied icily.

Firebrand burst out laughing. "You got your ass handed to you by a girl!"

Link blushed. "I'd just woken up, and she took me by surprise."

Firebrand ignored this, laughing merrily. "Oh, man. This is hilarious! Mister I'm-Such-A-Mysterious-Badass just got owned by a random chick!"

"Hey, it's not funny!" Link yelled. "Now we don't have any money. How are we supposed to pay the innkeeper?"

Firebrand sobered up, considering this. Link had bribed the innkeeper for a room, but agreed to pay when checking out. Now they couldn't pay the bill.

"Hm. That's problematic." Firebrand thought for a moment.

Link tapped his foot. "Any brilliant ideas?"

Firebrand shrugged. "Nothing special. I've dodged innkeepers before. Shift us out of here."

"Oh," Link said. Of course. He'd never thought of that. _And maybe I can catch that thief while I'm at it._

"All right, then. Let's go."

Without further ado, Link threw on a cloak and Shifted them both to the street. _Now, if I were her, I'd duck down a side alley, maybe go into a bar or something._ Link was counting on the fact that, job complete, the thief would relax. "Be right back," he said to Firebrand, who was gathering their things.

Ducking down the closest alley, Link looked around. Sure enough, a hooded figure was walking down the alley, whistling cheerfully. As he watched, she looked around, and pushed her hood down, revealing the same hair Link had seen in the room. _Gotcha._

To avoid footsteps, which could give him away, Link simply Shifted himself right behind her. Drawing a knife, he placed it against her throat. "Going somewhere?" he growled.

What happened next was entirely unexpected. Balling a fist, the girl smashed it into Link's groin. Link dropped the knife, gasping, but the girl wasn't done yet. Moving with fluid grace, she smashed an elbow into Link's face, sent a right cross into his gut, delivered a throat chop that knocked Link backwards, and knocked him down with a devastating palm strike to the chin.

She moved so fast all the blows seemed to land at once. Link hit the ground hard, gasping for air.

"Ow," he groaned. The girl, now freed from her hood, was giving him a contemplative look again. Through a haze of pain, Link noticed that she was quite pretty.

"Do I know you?" she asked hesitantly.

Sera walked out of the inn, stolen Rupees jingling in her pocket. That money would pay her rent for the next month. But that guy she'd robbed...something about him was familiar. He reminded her of someone, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

A quiet pang of guilt struck her, as it did every time she had to resort to thievery. She didn't live to excess, but the Belmange Combat School was _expensive._

It didn't matter. This was the last time. Now that she had graduated, she could focus on earning legitimate cash. Looking around warily, she lowered her hood. Man, that thing was _itchy._

Then she felt cold steel on her throat, and the moment of bliss evaporated. "Going somewhere?" a voice growled threateningly.

Sera didn't think; the martial training Master had given her took over immediately. Without a thought, she landed a devastating sequence of blows, sending her assailant to the ground. A distant part of her mind recognized him as the young man she had robbed. _Persistent little bugger, aren't you?_

After getting a good look at him, the nagging recognition was even stronger. "Do I know you?" she asked.

Link watched the girl warily, struggling to stand. "That depends. Do I know _you_?"

The girl looked at him closely. "You remind me of someone..."

Link shrugged cautiously. "I get that a lot." He didn't actually, but it seemed like a good generic response.

She looked closer. "Maybe I've seen you before in the market, or something. What's your name?"

Link considered this for a moment. Fake name or real one? Might as well be honest. All this subterfuge was so tiresome. "Link."

Sera staggered backwards, recognition spreading across her features. "Link! I thought so! Did you come from Castle Town? Where's Zelda? I heard you were dead!"

Link frowned. Castle Town? Who was this? Who was Zelda?

He waved his hands. "Slow down. What the hell are you talking about?"

Sera's smile faded. "What? You are Link, right?"

"Yes, that's my name, but I have no idea what you're talking about. Who are you?"

Sera blinked. "You don't remember me? The name Sera ring a bell?"

_Sera._ The name seemed to...resonate...almost, but...

"Nope."

Sera sagged, crestfallen. "Maybe you aren't Link. Funny. You look just like him."

Link shrugged. "Maybe I have met you before," he suggested. "I just can't remember anything."

Sera wrinkled her nose. "What, you lost your memory?"

"Something like that."

Sera seemed to make a decision. "All right. Let me see your right temple."

Link frowned. "What? Why?"

"Just let me see it," she snapped, bending close. A moment's inspection revealed a small scar.

"You _are_ him," she whispered.

"What?"

Sera frowned, confused. "You're Link. The sole survivor of a warrior tribe who called themselves the Aundeii. You saved by life almost a year ago."

Link blinked. He was what? "Onday?"

Sera sighed, rolling up her sleeve. "You gave this to me."

Link blinked, staring at the leather bracelet. Four knives of various sizes were sheathed in leather hoops, hilts just behind the wrist. Memory stirred...and awoke.

Link gasped, clutching his head. He remembered. He remembered his home...he remembered Sera...he remembered...everything.

Link looked at her, recognition swirling in his eyes. "Sera?"


	18. Memory

"What happened?" Sera asked.

Link thought for a second. A lifetime of memories were swirling around in his head, making thought difficult. He waited for them to fall into a recognizable order.

"I left in the middle of the night. I hate good-byes. Sorry about that."

"Oh, yeah," Sera said. "That reminds me of something."

"What?"

Link's answer was a slap that sent him sprawling. "Ow! Haven't you beaten me up enough today?"

"That's for ditching me!" Sera stormed. She cleared her throat, regaining her composure. "Just needed to get that out of my system. You were saying?"

"Anyway," Link continued, rubbing his cheek, "I journeyed to Castle Town, and swore myself to Princess Zelda. After a few months, I'd impressed her enough to be promoted to general, and took command of the Castle Town Division. Then the slavers attacked. The details here are a little fuzzy, but we lost. I tried to hold them off...princess escaped...and then...and then..."

The relevant memories simply wouldn't come. "After that, it's a blank."

Something seemed to occur to him. "Looks like Kalo came through after all."

Sera looked a little confused. "Kalo was the soldier I placed in charge of the evacuation," Link explained.

"Okay," she said. "Now that makes sense."

Link rubbed his eyes. "I wish I could remember what happened after the battle."

"Maybe it's better that you don't," Sera replied.

Link shrugged. "By the way, have you heard anything about Princess Zelda? She came in with the refugees, right?"

Sera winced. Worry spread across Link's face. "What?"

"I ran into a soldier earlier. He told me…"

"What?" Link demanded, blood draining from his face. "Say it!"

"He told me both you and Zelda were missing, assumed dead."

Link sat back, stunned. "They think I'm dead? And Zelda?"

He swore quietly. "Yant. That idiot. I put him in charge, and he…"

Link shook his head. "No, can't blame him. They were probably sidetracked, or something. Most likely Zelda's idea."

He got up, heading back toward the inn. "Where are you going?" Sera asked.

"To find Zelda. Anywhere I'm not is unsafe. I'm more than her bodyguard - I'm her sworn blade. She is fully my responsibility."

"Link," Sera said gently, "If she hasn't turned up by now, she's probably dead."

Link turned back, eyes cold and expressionless. His armour was back in place. "I know," he sighed. "But I can't rest until I find out, one way or the other."

Yant swore, cutting a path through the forest with his sword. Zelda _had_ to pick the densest part to get through.

"Why are we going through these goddess-forsaken woods again?" he called.

"These woods are the farthest thing from goddess forsaken," Zelda chided, hiking her dress up to get over a log. "In the center of them rests the most holy of our ancient temples: the Temple of Time."

"And what's there that's so important?"

Zelda's face clouded. "Sanctuary."

Yant turned, taking out his frustration on the foliage. "There's sanctuary in these woods," he said in a mocking falsetto. "We just need to get through the densest, darkest, oldest part of them to get to it."

Two other soldiers stood at Zelda's side, alert and wary. The others guarded the rear. All were hungry, sweaty, grimy, and exhausted.

"Take that," Yant muttered, cutting an impudent vine in two.

Behind him, Zelda closed her eyes, palm stretched outward. "We're close," she announced. "I can feel it."

Link returned to the inn, Sera in tow. Firebrand quickly got up, wolf-whistling. "Who's your very pretty friend?" he asked, grinning.

"I'm Sera," Link's very pretty friend answered. "And I can probably beat the crap out of you in about ten seconds, so don't try anything."

Firebrand turned to Link. "Nice catch," he muttered sarcastically. "A real winner."

Making a point not to look at Sera, Firebrand clapped his hands. "I take you chased the thief, but got distracted, and she got away?"

"Uh, no." Link answered. "The thief's right there."

Sera waved, smiling broadly.

"Oh, yeah, that reminds me," Link said. "I'd like my wallet back."

Shrugging, Sera handed Link an empty wallet. "With the money," Link growled.

Sighing theatrically, Sera handed over Link's Rupees.

"Uh," Firebrand said. "Could someone tell me what's going on?"

Link sighed. "Long version or short version?"

Firebrand scratched his head. "Short version, please."

"Okay. Sera's a friend. I saved her life a few months ago. It also turns out I'm Princess Zelda's sworn-blade, so now I have to go find her."

Firebrand looked lost. "What? Where'd all this come from?"

"I remember now," Link grumbled. "Now let's _go_."

"Go _where?_" Firebrand protested.

Link didn't even slow. "Good question."

It all happened so fast.

Zelda shrank back against the temple door, face white with terror. In front of her, one of those…monstrosities was tearing its scythe from Yant's neck. The other soldiers lay around the temple grounds in pools of their own blood.

Yant's final moments had been as shocking as they were gruesome.

_Zelda looked over, noticed Yant peering intently into the bush. "Some sanctuary," one of the soldiers muttered. The eerie silence was making everyone uneasy._

_Zelda ignored him, walking toward Yant. "Something wrong?"_

_He continued staring for a moment, but later turned and faced her. "No. Thought I saw something. Must've been a squirrel."_

_He strode back into the camp. One of the soldiers frowned. "Hey, Yant, your shadow's acting up."_

_Then the night turned into hell. A nightmare emerged from Yant's shadow, sinking a massive scythe into his neck. Three other creatures burst into the clearing, tearing the soldiers to pieces._

_Yant's eyes met hers, blood pouring down his chest. "Run," he rasped._

_The creature ripped the scythe through his neck, almost severing his head and killing him instantly._

The creature slowly advanced on her, scythe red with blood. Zelda shrank back against the temple door, fervently praying.

"Merciful Goddesses, grant me the strength of the ages and the power to banish evil, to wipe this abomination from the earth that it blasphemes by stalking-"

"Prayers mean nothing here," the thing rasped.

It pulled back its cowled hood, glaring at her with solid black eyes. "Even the most sacred of places are worthless now," it said. "And here, there's nobody to hear you scream."

Zelda screamed anyway.

**End of Part II**

**Okay, I'm sorry. There's a bit of a drop in action in this part. Don't worry. This isn't a trend. As you can see from the last bit, its getting better. By the way, did anyone get the reference I made to the Gossip Stones a little while ago?  
**


	19. Purpose

Link strode through the streets of Belmange, the crowd parting in front of him. Firebrand and Sera walked behind him, racing to keep up. For Sera, this was nothing new. For Firebrand, it was if Link was a different person.

He'd noticed something different when Link reappeared with Sera: he carried himself more confidently, and seemed more…complete, somehow. But this…

Firebrand shuddered. Link had become a cold, imposing presence, like some kind of minor god. From the start, Firebrand knew that Link was an eyes-on-the-prize character, but he had seemed lost, almost.

Now, he looked like someone with a purpose.

Even more unnerving was the knife he kept flipping in his left hand. Toss in the air, catch by the blade, toss again, catch by the hilt. Repeat. Over and over again.

Link's mind was in complete turmoil. He had no idea what to do next. The proper thing to do would be to attempt to regain control of the Hylian Guard, rally what troops he could, and counterattack the Ferusari army.

Yet his oath demanded that he find Zelda. He didn't care what Sera said; Zelda was alive. Somehow, Link knew it.

And Sera. That was another issue. For some reason, she was still following him around. He'd have to find some way to get rid of her, and Firebrand as well. Firebrand was useful before Link regained his memory, but that was it.

_And _he needed to find a weapon. Or weapons. His knife-braces had not reappeared with him, and the knife he was fooling with now wouldn't really help that much.

He continued on, still flipping the knife. _What to do, what to do._

Sera's voice cut through his thoughts. "So, where are we going?"

Link turned. "We? There's no 'we'. _I_ have a duty to fulfill. What makes you two think you're coming with me?"

Sera fixed him with an icy stare. Most would suddenly forget what they were saying and back away under that look, but Link was immune. "Remember what I said when we first met?" she said. "I want adventure and excitement. I'm most likely to find it tagging along with you."

"No. You'll only slow me down."

"Are you kidding me?" Sera snorted. "If anything, you'll go faster with two others to help."

"Oh, really?" Link snarled. "Tell me: how's your fighting skills?"

"I kicked your ass twice, in case you don't remember," Sera responded.

Link shrugged. He'd give that one to her. "Wilderness survival?"

"I can survive."

"No good. Tracking?"

"Okay, but nothing to write home about."

Link nodded. "I rest my case."

Firebrand felt it was time to interject. Link obviously wanted to get rid of them, for reasons that he still didn't understand. How was wilderness survival even _relevant_?

"Guys, please," he said, holding his palms out. "Link, to be honest, if Sera's that insistent, I really don't think you have a choice in the matter."

"I'm coming along too, by the way," he added as an afterthought.

Link glared at him for a moment, but quickly turned and stomped down the road. Firebrand was right. He had absolutely no chance of dissuading Sera.

"Well, if you're coming along, you might as well make yourselves useful," he growled. "I need a second opinion on this."

"Wait," Sera said. "You're just letting us come? No further argument? There has to be a catch."

Link shook his head. "No catch. Firebrand's right. It doesn't seem like I have a choice. Now are you going to help or not?"

Sera nodded. "All right," Link said. "Here's my dilemma. What I _should_ do is take command of the Belmange Division and liberate Castle Town. What I _want _to do is find Zelda, because finding her will boost morale, and satisfy my oath at the same time."

"And no," he said, glancing at Sera, "I'm not going to take into account that she may be dead. Not until I see her body in front of me."

Sera gave him a funny look for a moment. "You're really besotted with her, aren't you?"

Link's mouth dropped open. "_What?_ I'm her freaking sworn-blade! Her safety is my primary concern! What gives you the _slightest_ idea that I have any feelings for her?"

"The fact that you're blushing furiously," Sera responded coolly.

Link growled, and turned around, mainly because Sera was right. "Smooth," he heard Firebrand say. "Stay out of this!" Link yelled at him.

He turned back to Sera, collecting himself. "Look, it doesn't matter. What do you think I should do?"

Sera thought for a moment. "Well, things seem to be in order here. We should at least see if Zelda's alive or not."

"Makes sense to me," Firebrand agreed. "Plus, we get the bonus of another babe in the group. Just kidding, man," he said to Link's murderous glare.

Link shook his head. _That was an odd reaction. Maybe I _do_ have feelings for her._

_Oh, shut up,_ he told the romantic part of his mind. _My concern for Zelda is merely out of duty._

_Or is it…_his traitorous thoughts replied.

Silencing that part of his brain, Link thought for a few seconds. Finally, he sighed, and turned to face the others. "Problem with that is, I have no idea where to start."

Firebrand fidgeted awkwardly for a moment. "Maybe some of the soldiers have an idea?"

Link slapped his forehead. "That's so obvious I never even thought of it."

He fell silent, considering. "Hold on. Sera, you said the Guard thought I was dead, right?"

Sera nodded, not really seeing what he was getting at.

Link stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe it's better if I stay dead. It would help me stay beneath notice. Plus, if I reveal myself to the Guard, I might be forced to take command, whether I liked it or not."

"And, of course, since most of the Guard also believes Zelda's dead," Sera added, catching on, "You'll be dissuaded from any attempt to find her."

"Mind you, it could also work the other way," Link said. "If I survived, it's possible that Zelda did as well."

Firebrand glanced from Link, to Sera, and back again. When did this turn into an intellectual debate? "Can't we just do _something?_" he begged. "I know stalling when I see it."

Link reluctantly agreed. "I'll just have to disguise myself, or something."

"I've got a better idea," Sera said.

Link turned. "You have an idea where Zelda is?"

Sera paused. "I…I think so."

Then, more confidently, "Yeah. I think I do."


	20. The Mourning Star

"Okay," Link said, leading the three of them into a nearby tavern. He had no intention of drinking, but a tavern was a surprisingly good place to discuss delicate matters.

"Let's hear it," he said, settling down on a stool. Firebrand, ignoring them, ordered a beer.

Sera fidgeted awkwardly. "It's a little far-fetched, but it's better than nothing. I got the idea from an old nursery rhyme."

Firebrand choked on his beer. After a brief bout of coughing, he burst out, "Nursery rhyme? Finding the pr…this particular person hinges on a freaking _nursery rhyme?_"

Sera ignored him. "It just made sense, really. You may have heard it. 'When all's gone wrong, and no hope's in song, remember this rhyme…"

"It will lead you to safety at the Temple of Time," Link finished, eyes widening.

Firebrand gave Link a disgusted look. "You too? Man, I thought we'd have to do something a little cooler to figure this out."

Link chuckled. "Maybe we will. To be honest, I have no idea where the Temple of Time even is. Zelda mentioned it once or twice while I was with her, but never said anything about where it was."

Now it was Sera's turn to chuckle. "That's easy. The Forest of Illusions."

Link blinked. "How did you find that out?"

Sera winked at him devilishly. "I've done my homework."

A feeling of unease swirled in Link's gut. If she'd managed to find out about the Royal Family's most closely guarded secret, she might be able to find out something about the Aundeii…

"So what are we waiting for?" Firebrand said, tossing some Rupees onto the bar and interrupting Link's thoughts. "Let's go!"

As they exited the bar, Link shook his head. "Now it makes sense. She didn't get sidetracked. She was looking for somewhere safe, knowing that she was in terrible danger. She wouldn't stay in a city. If the Ferusari captured Castle Town that quickly, I doubt they'd have much trouble with Belmange."

_Hold on, Zelda,_ he thought. _I'm coming for you._

_Link slowly prowled into the castle garden, loosening a knife. If Zelda wasn't here, he'd have to assume he'd failed, and she'd been kidnapped._

_Link cautiously checked around the corner, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw Zelda walking along one of the aisles._

_He paused for a second, watching her, unwilling at the moment to announce his presence. She looked so serene and peaceful…_

_Bending down, she smelled a flower, a tall, thin-stemmed plant with pure white petals. Link swallowed awkwardly. It didn't feel right, spying on his ward like this._

_For the hundredth time, it occurred to Link that the entire situation was odd. Zelda was only a year older than him, and here she was, leading a nation. _

_Of course, she really didn't have a choice in the matter, considering her parents were killed in the last stand at Lake Hylia five years before, but she was doing a fine job of it, nonetheless._

_Link shook his head to clear it, glancing once more at the scar on his hand. His oath. He had to remember his oath._

Link glanced at that scar now, reminding himself what he had to do. He was an Aundeii. Everything was secondary to duty. Yet it was slowly becoming harder and harder to stay by that.

Link glanced at Sera. She was leading them toward an older section of town, quite obviously a rougher area. She stopped outside an inn called the Five Rings.

"Wait here for a moment," she said. "If I'm coming with you guys, I need to get some things."

Link and Firebrand looked at each other. The latter rolled his eyes. The look said, "Nice job. Now we have to lug a bunch of outfits and accessories around."

Sera came out of the inn a few minutes later, holding a small pack. Link raised an eyebrow at the ornate sword strapped to her back, but said nothing of it. His trained eye immediately recognized it as a fine blade, even though it was still sheathed.

Filing that away as a future topic, Link gathered up his few things, patting the knife stowed in an inside pocket. _I really have to make more of those wrist braces, _he thought.

"Shall we go?" Sera asked.

Link agreed.

_Link strode along beside the princess, a longbow held in his left hand, keeping a sharp eye out for any danger. Something about mountain passes always made him nervous; he just wasn't sure if it was claustrophobia or the increased potential for ambush._

_Beside him, Zelda chuckled at his uptight demeanor. "Relax, Link. Nobody would be stupid enough to attack an armed convoy."_

_Link, still scanning the cliffs, replied, "There's always the risk, mi'lady."_

_Mi'lady. Or ma'am. Never mind that they were about the same age. That's all she ever got out of him. Zelda sighed and shook her head. She _had_ been hoping Link would become a friend. Instead, she got another close-mouthed bodyguard._

_Link stopped abruptly, gaze fixed on a spot on the cliff. Something about it didn't look right._

"_Link," Zelda said, attempting to draw his attention again. "Nothing's going to jump out at us. You can rel-"_

_An arrow zipped by, passing less than an inch from Zelda's head. Link's bow came up smoothly, sending an arrow at the camouflaged archer who had just stood up. The arrow punched into his face just below the right eye, killing him instantly._

_Dropping the bow, Link positioned himself between Zelda and any other potential threats. To his horror, dozens of men rose up from the cover of the cliff. Well-armed men._

"_Rally to me! Link shouted, drawing his knives. "Form three ranks! Archers at the rear!"_

_The men immediately complied, the archers quickly picking off the few enemy threats. The rest of the mysterious bandits charged, bellowing savage war cries. Link continued bellowing orders even as the bandits approached. "Stay tight! Form a shield wall! Pikes at the ready!"_

_The first bandits stopped short, impaled on the first rank's pikes, but more kept coming. Link dropped his hand, signaling the archers to fire. A dozen bowstrings twanged, and broadhead shafts drove into the advancing bandits at point-blank range._

_The approaching bandits fell like ninepins, but they still kept coming. The first rank fell back, pikes clogged to the point of uselessness with bodies, and the second rank surged forward, swords at the ready._

_Grabbing Zelda's arm, Link lowered his voice. "I would advise you to find somewhere out of sight, mi'lady."_

_Face pale, the princess complied._

_Turning, Link signaled the third rank to fall back and circle around to flank the bandits. At the same time, the remaining ranks fell back, drawing the bandits into the trap. The bloodied solders performed the maneuvers flawlessly, although they left many of their brethren on the ground._

_Link himself plunged into the heart of the fight, dancing among the bandits. And where he danced, men screamed and died. His blades flashed out repeatedly in blurs of tempered steel, the razor-sharp edges slicing through flesh with barely any resistance._

_Although blood sprayed and gouted in every direction, Link took immense care in ensuring that none got on him. He was wearing a loose-fitting tunic Zelda had given him, and he didn't want to see it ruined._

_Minutes later, it was all over. Although they had been outnumbered, Link's spur-of-the-moment tactics had routed the bandits with minimal casualties. Link, his knives clean and sheathed, strode among the bodies, examining them for identification._

_Zelda slowly came out of hiding, marveling at Link's ability to take command. He had commanded the soldiers with a level of skill seen only in career generals. She was amazed…and a little frightened, to be honest._

_Zelda approached Link as he bent down, plucking a small pin from the coat of a dead bandit. After examining it for a moment, he handed it to Zelda. "This mean anything to you?"_

_Zelda examined it, frowning. "I don't understand. This is a coat of arms from one of the minor Houses!"_

_Link's expression darkened. "It would seem that you have enemies, mi'lady."_

Link shook his head, attempting to dispel the memory. Funny, now that he had regained his memory, all he tried to do was repress it. It was ironic, or something.

Sera was staring at him. "Link?"

Link returned her gaze. "Yes?"

"Did you even hear what I said?"

Link winced. "Sorry. My mind was a million leagues away."

Sera sighed, preparing to repeat herself. "Now, if I'm right, the Forest of Illusions is seventeen degrees south of the Morning Star."

"Wait," Link said, struggling to keep up. "How do you know where it is? All I hear about that wood is vague rumors."

Sera flashed him a smile. "I know where it is," she said, "because I've been there before."


	21. Keep Going

"You sure you know where you're going?"

Sera turned around, regarding Firebrand with a kind of patient resignation. "I kind of learned how to navigate while traveling all over the freaking kingdom. I think I have _some_ idea where we're going."

Firebrand shrugged. "Just making sure."

Disregarding him, Sera turned to Link. "Honestly, how do you stand him?"

"Hey!" Firebrand said indignantly. "I'm right here, remember?"

"Oh, it's surprisingly easy. I mastered this little trick of reducing his voice to a quiet buzz…I'm just kidding, Firebrand." Link laughed.

Link's laughter quickly trailed off. Now was not the time for joking.

_Toss. Catch. Toss. Catch. Toss. Catch. Toss. Catch._

"_Link! What the hell are you doing?"_

_Link jumped, the razor's blade nearly slicing his finger off. The handles of the other two smacked smoothly into his hands, but the third sunk into the floor with a hollow _thunk.

"_Has it ever occurred to you to knock before-" Link bit his tongue, suppressing his irritation. _

_Zelda walked into his room, face still pale with shock. "Are you completely crazy? You trying to kill yourself or something?"_

_Link frowned. "No. It's an exercise I invented to improve hand-eye coordination."_

_Zelda's mouth worked for a moment, but nothing came out. Was it just her, or was he getting worse by the day? It seemed that the closer she attempted to get to him, the more he pulled away._

_Link frowned. What was Zelda so irritated about? Juggling razors was a perfectly acceptable exercise. Link had seen street performers do it all the time._

_Then he noticed the way Zelda was looking at him. He'd scared her._

Is she…concerned about me?

_Link shrugged, putting the razors away. He looked up, unsatisfied. He needed to do something else. "I'm, uh…I'm sorry," he said._

_Zelda's glare made it seem that she didn't care._

Link scowled, attempting to keep his mind on the here and now. Why was he thinking about Zelda so much, anyway? Sure, he was concerned for her, but this was getting ridiculous.

Yet, no matter how he tried to fight it, his mind wandered back to Zelda.

_Zelda sighed. "The nobles have been badgering me to choose a suitor. They want a King and Queen."_

_Link's eyes widened. Finally, a reaction. "What?"_

"_Link, I have been considering you."_

_For some reason, a burst of euphoria exploded through Link. He was speechless for a moment, his inexplicable feelings warring against rationality, but rationality eventually won._

"_You WHAT?"_

Link blushed. This wasn't right; thinking about the princess this way was…well, not treason, but close to it in Link's book, at least. His mind turned to the last thing he remembered.

He had kissed her. He had actually kissed the ruler of Hyrule. It was a crazy impulse, a spur-of-the-moment decision, but still…

And yet, it had sent such an electric thrill through Link. It was so wrong, but so _right._

Link swore under his breath, attempting to bury his thoughts. He was _not_ in love with Zelda. He simply wasn't!

Pushing his thoughts away, Link followed Sera, who strode ahead confidently. They were making good progress, but Link still felt anxious. He felt some kind of urgency, like he needed to be there _now._

"Can't we go any faster?" he complained, lengthening his stride.

"No," Sera replied. She frowned as she saw his face. "What's with you, Link? You're tighter than a drawn bow."

Link shook his head. "She needs us. She needs _me._ We have to go faster."

"Well, maybe we'd be making better progress if _someone_ hadn't decided that we didn't need horses."

Firebrand looked away, whistling innocently. Sera glared at him for a moment before returning her gaze to Link. He stared back levelly, albeit with quite obvious anxiety.

Sera looked at the night sky for a moment. "We're making good progress. At this rate, we'll be there in a couple days."

"A couple days?" Link gasped. "How far away is this wood, anyway?"

Sera frowned. "I already told you. It's about twenty leagues from Belmange."

"Goddesses protect me," Link breathed. "We have to get there _now!_"

Reaching out, he grabbed Sera's arm, gesturing for Firebrand to grab his. Sera frowned. "What are you-"

Link fixed his gaze straight ahead and Shifted.

"Doing?" Sera finished. She glanced around, frowning. "Wha-"

Her mouth dropped open. They were almost two leagues from where they originally were! Sera turned to Link, who was breathing heavily, skin pale. "What the hell is this?"

"Better…method of travel…" Link wheezed. Shifting himself and one other was bad enough; two was insanity!

It didn't matter. Link fixed his gaze on the horizon. "Link," Firebrand started, "Don't you think we should-"

Link Shifted.

Link gritted his teeth against the piercing pain that had blossomed in his head, Shifting them again.

The piercing pain turned into splitting agony.

Again. Sweat drenched Link's face, mixing with tears of pain.

Again. Link's head felt as if it would split open. He clenched his jaw and kept going. Every Shift was one step closer to his duty.

Again. Sera began to protest, seeing Link's pain. He ignored her.

Again. Link knew he was pushing himself too hard, that continuing would only result in a repeat of earlier. But he couldn't help it. Responsibility was all that mattered.

Again. _My life is duty._

Again. _All else is worthless._

Again. _I have…to get…closer…_

They appeared at the edge of a great forest, directly in front of a swath cut through the underbrush. Link collapsed, eyes staring sightlessly.

He was dimly aware of Firebrand swearing. His voice seemed to be coming from far away. "Idiot's pushed himself too hard again."

_No._

Link fought against the darkness attempting to consume him. Zelda was in danger. The life of the princess was all that mattered.

_Have to…keep…going…_

With a Herculean effort, Link struggled to his feet. "What are you doing?"

Sera. Link forced his head to turn toward her, although it wobbled unsteadily. Her face was pale, concern written over her face.

"Keep…going…" he mumbled. _I have a duty to fulfill._

"Goddamit!" Sera shrieked. "Not this duty crap again! I forgot how irritating it was!"

Firebrand shuffled awkwardly. "I have to agree with Sera on this one, Link. Seriously, you should at least rest…or something."

Link shook his head, although it made the entire world spin. He swayed unsteadily for a moment, but soon started moving again.

Sera planted herself in front of him. "Link. Stop."

Link glared at her. Who was she to deny him? The thought that she was his friend never even crossed his mind. "This is one thing I cannot fail."

"It can wait!" Sera protested. "Listen to yourself, Link! This has almost turned into an obsession!"

Link looked away. She was right. But it was his nature. He was an Aundeii. Everything was secondary to duty.

"Listen," he said, attempting a compromise. "Let me find Zelda first. She's here. I know she is. I'll rest then."

Sera began to protest, but was stopped by Firebrand. "Leave it. It's no use."

He looked over at Link. "You're still a dumbass."

Link nodded at Sera, forcing himself to keep going.

_Almost…there…_

**Later**

Link stumbled into the clearing that surrounded the ancient temple. He was barely conscious, swaying on his feet. He stopped at the entrance of the clearing, barely breathing.

He stood stock-still as he beheld the scene of carnage. Nine soldiers lay on the ground, surrounded by pools of their own blood. One had been disemboweled, gray coils of intestine lying on the ground. Another's face had been partially torn off, a blood-drenched skull grinning from underneath shreds of muscle.

Link slowly walked around the clearing, eyes searching for one thing: Zelda's body. If he found it, he had failed. And there was only one option after failure.

Sera turned around, vomiting quietly. Firebrand swallowed, looking at the corpses. "Keep it together," he muttered to himself.

A fly landed on a soldier's open eye. Within seconds, he joined Sera.

Finally, Link's eyes fell upon something he desperately hoped not to see: Zelda.

A horrible, wounded cry tore from his lips as he sprinted to her side. He gathered her up in his arms, bowing his head over her body.

Her dress was torn, and blood stained the front of it. "I'm sorry," Link whispered, voice breaking. "I'm so sorry. I wasn't there when you needed me."


	22. Return of the Reapers

Link stood up, after gently laying Zelda on the ground. After a moment of intense concentration, he forced his grief into the corner of his mind and locked it there. He had let his armor come down, just for an instant, and had been dealt a near-fatal wound. It wouldn't happen again.

Sera slowly approached him, trying to hold back her tears. She gently placed a hand on his shoulder, only to have it shaken off. Link walked away, his face stony and indifferent.

Zelda's face was completely untouched, showing the full measure of its radiant beauty. A single strand of hair had fallen across her face, the only mar on the perfect features.

Sera reached down to brush it off, but stopped when she saw it move slightly.

Sera paused. The hair moved again. Anticipation rising in her throat, she drew one of her knives, holding it close to Zelda's mouth.

The knife blade fogged slightly. Heart pounding, Sera laid her fingers along Zelda's throat, searching for a pulse. And found one. It was faint, but it was there.

Sera could barely keep herself from jumping for joy. Zelda was alive! In his grief, Link had never bothered to check for vital signs

Link finally noticed what she was doing. "Don't waste your time," he snapped. "We have to move on. There's nothing left for us here."

"Link," Sera said. He ignored her. "Link!"

Furious blue eyes met hers. "What?"

"She's alive."

In an instant, all traces of indifference faded. Link switched to professional mode, checking her vitals as Sera had done moments before. "I don't believe it," he breathed. "There's so much blood."

Sera shook her head. "It's not hers. Think. Nine guys were almost torn apart. If you can be in the middle of that and not get a little blood on you, you're some kind of transcendent."

Link blinked, rubbing his forehead. "Well, uh…That was embarrassing."

Sera smiled. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about. You obviously care for her."

Link blushed. "I'm her sworn-blade. My relationship with her is strictly professional."

"Oh, don't bullshit me, Link."

Sera's foul language made Link blink. "You shouldn't use that kind of-"

"Dammit, Link! Stop ignoring what's right in front of you!"

"What makes you care so much?" Link retorted.

"Excuse me!" Firebrand interrupted. "I think Zelda could use some medical attention here!"

Sera looked away. "He's right," she muttered. "And here we are, arguing like some old married couple."

Link ignored her, returning to Zelda's side. He gently performed a cursory examination, doing his best to preserve her modesty. He fervently hoped that Sera didn't notice his ears glowing bright red at first, but soon absorbed himself in the task.

After a moment, he stood up, trying to stave off his exhaustion. "Doesn't seem to be anything wrong with her, besides a few superficial injuries. No broken bones or internal injuries, at least as far as I can tell. It would be difficult to tell for certain without a full examination, which I don't know how to do."

He swayed on his feet, clutching his head. That blasted headache _still_ hadn't gone away. Usually it faded within a few minutes, but this one was still going strong. _I'm going to have to watch it for the next little while,_ Link thought, rubbing his temples. _I pushed myself way too far today._

As soon as he actually acknowledged his exhaustion that way, it hammered into his awareness. Link's legs decided they didn't want to support him anymore, and the ground rushed up to meet him.

Ganondorf paced the throne room anxiously. He had just received word that the Reapers had returned, and he was eager to learn what they were truly capable of. The communication crystals he had engineered had allowed him to see the carnage, but he wanted a first-hand report.

Strange, though that a noble would know the location of the Temple of Time. And that she would have such a professional escort. Yet all the Reapers had seen was an older woman, and disregarded her completely.

Though that wasn't to say that they didn't have a little fun with her first. Ganondorf shivered with glee as he replayed their attack in his head. The blood…the beautiful blood…

Such delicious carnage. He had always been a warrior, but death delighted him now. To have such control over a man's fate…Ah, bliss.

But the Reapers ability to hide in shadows…that was an interesting development. He hadn't seen that particular power in a long time…

Ganondorf blinked. The Reapers had entered the room, cowled and cloaked as always. Their scythes hung from their backs, within easy reach.

The scythes. Another point of interest. His creations had spurned conventional weapons and had instead chosen simple farmer's tools. Yet they wieldedthem as though they were born with them.

"Gentlemen," Ganondorf crowed, walking toward the silent Reapers. "Haven't I told you to knock? You may catch me at a sensitive moment."

The Reapers remained silent. Ganondorf chuckled. "Now, my children, don't be shy! I'm eager to learn just what transpired."

Now one of them spoke in a dry whisper: "You saw what happened."

"Did I?" Ganondorf replied, cocking his head. "But I saw everything from an odd perspective. I want to know what happened from _your_ point of view."

"We killed. It is our purpose. That is what happened. You directed, we killed."

Ganondorf's good humour evaporated. Rage twisted his features. "Get out of my sight!" he stormed. "Do not return unless I send for you!"

"But Master," one of the other Reapers replied, "We have news."

"I don't care!" Ganondorf screamed. "Now leave!"

He thrust his hand forward, flinging the Reapers out of the room. One didn't make it, and collided with the wall with a sickening _crunch._ The Reaper slid down the wall silently, leaving a trail of black ichor.

Ganondorf breathed deeply, attempting to rein in his temper. Sure, the Reapers were excellent assassins, and blindly loyal, but at times they could be so _impudent._ His flaming temper didn't help matters either. This single childish tantrum had destroyed one of his unstoppable killers.

He continued pacing, mind racing. Every minute he delayed was another minute lost. That probably explained his raging temper. _I'm going stir-crazy, _Ganondorf concluded.

There was another issue. Many of the slavers in the castle had grown dissatisfied with the lack of captives and plunder, and had left to pillage villages throughout the kingdom.

The garrison in the castle had dwindled to a pathetic two hundred men, leaving him mortally vulnerable to a counterattack.

He slammed a fist into the palm of his other hand. "That's it," he said, "Time to do something."

He yanked a communication crystal out of his pocket and muttered a quick incantation to link it to the one he wanted. After a moment, the face of a clan chieftan appeared in the crystal, distorted slightly by the facets.

"Chieftan Rell," he barked in Ferusari, "Please come to my quarters."

A number of the slavers had taken to relaxing in the main ballroom when not on guard duty. They would pass the time eating, playing a unique version of cards in which the loser was forced to perform some form of idiotic stump, or throwing darts at one of the tapestries.

Abruptly, one of the men sitting at the table stood up and began flailing around, swearing explosively as something in his pocket began vibrating. After a moment, he pulled a glowing stone out of his pocket and cleared his throat, regaining his composure. "Yes, my lord?"

He listened attentively for a moment, although none of the others could hear. The unique thing about the communication crystals was that the person using them could hear the other person as clearly as if they were standing right next to them, but nobody else could hear anything. Also, ambient noise would not be transmitted, leading to an eerie emptiness to the conversations.

Finally, the chieftain nodded, placing the stone back in his pocket. One of the slavers looked up at him, casually sliding a card into his hand. "Should I bother dealing you in next round?"

The chieftain waved a hand. "Don't bother, Krael. I'm probably going to be a while."

Krael nodded, showing his cards, a winning hand. "You lost anyway, Father."

Laughing, Rell clapped his son on the shoulder. "Well played, my boy."

After the rest of the players had finished groaning, he collected everyone's cards and began shuffling.

Krael was a Warrior, a unique division of each Ferusari tribe. Unlike the Catchers, who were simply in charge of capturing potential slaves, or Fighters, who protected the Catchers, Warriors could choose whether or not to fight in a conflict. Warriors would never fight Warriors, even if they were on opposite sides of a battle. If both groups had been routed and only Warriors remained, the Warriors would simply walk away.

In this regard, they were essentially a different clan. Krael was one of only a handful of Warriors brought along in the initial party, and one of a select few who had survived the capture of Castle Town.

As he shuffled, Krael's mind wandered. He thought of what their new leader was planning now. Their victory had resulted in nothing more than almost a week of inactivity, and the introduction of those horrors everyone called Reapers.

_That's not a good way to fight,_ Krael thought, shaking his head slightly. _Bolstered by some dark magic…it's dishonest is what it is._

His thoughts turned to the last shred of resistance they had faced in Castle Town, just in front of the throne room. A single warrior had held off an entire platoon for several minutes, killing nearly a score of them. _He_ was a worthy opponent.

He didn't deserve to die the way he did. He should have died in an honourable way, not laid low by a lucky archer. Krael would have been happy to pit himself against the young warrior in single combat, but that blasted archer had ended the fight.

Dealing the cards, he shook his head again. This entire war was wrong. There was no honour in it at all. Sure, the Fists of iron were effective, but they were no better than bows: a coward's weapon.

Not only that, but he didn't trust the new leader. The Ferusari were not meant to be united. That was why they had individual clans, to express the unique personality of each group. The leader had said this land was full of potential slaves, all for the taking. Where were the slaves, then?

Krael looked at his hand. No face cards, trumps, or aces. An automatic loss. He threw the cards down in disgust and stalked out of the room, ignoring the protests of the others.

He wasn't the only one who didn't like the way things were going. There were others. Not just Warriors, either. Dozens of men from every clan, rank and division were grouping together, gaining strength from their numbers. For every day of inaction, for every strange outburst from the leader, more appeared.

This wasn't the true path. The new leader spouted nothing but lies. He couldn't be trusted.

And neither could anyone who followed him.


	23. Revenge

_Link?_

_Are you there, Link?_

_Can you hear me?_

Link faded in and out of consciousness, aware of nothing except the piercing pain in his head. He woke for a moment, vaguely aware that he was wrapped in blankets, lying in a tent. He couldn't tell what time it was because of the trees over the tent.

_Trees? What trees?_

Link was confused. Why were there trees there? _Oh, right. Zelda was in the Forest of Illusions._

Link's mind retreated again.

He walked along a path lit by a moon that wasn't there. While it awed him the first time, it had become familiar now. He strode forward, stopping at the spring.

"Goddesses?" he whispered, voice echoing around the spring. "Are you there?"

Once again, the shafts of light shot up from the waters of the spring, resolving into three female figures.

"We are not to be summoned like some mongrel pup, _boy,_" Din spat.

"Din! Please," Faore admonished. "I apologize, hero. Din is quite distraught."

"That unholy creature is abusing my power!" the red goddess hissed. "Every second, the insult grows worse. And this hero does nothing except waste time cavorting with thieves!"

"For your information," Link replied levelly, "I was attempting to regain my memories. I happened upon Thieves' Domain purely by accident."

Nayru spoke up. "Please, everyone! I know everyone is stressed for one reason or another, but that's no reason to turn against each other!"

Din clenched her fists, Link forgotten. "I don't care! That creature is an insult to everything I stand for!"

"He insults everything we stand for as well, Din," Faore replied. "You are no different."

Link sighed. He had come seeking answers, but now was obviously not the time to get them. "I'll come back later," he muttered, turning away from the arguing Goddesses.

He had just started back along the path when Faore spoke. "Hero. Wait."

Link turned, looking the goddess in the eyes. "Yes?"

"You obviously came here for a reason."

Link paused. "I need guidance. And the rest of my memories."

Faore looked confused for a moment. "You have all your memories, don't you?"

Link shook his head. "No. There is a significant portion that's completely blank. I remember saying something about buying time, and the next thing I remember is killing a slaver that happened to walk past, with no memories, weapons, or the faintest idea of who I was and what I was doing there."

"I apologize, hero," Nayru said. "I buried those particular memories. Some things should be left alone."

"I agree. Some things should be left alone, but we disturb them anyway. It's simple curiosity."

"Hero," Nayru replied, "These memories should stay hidden. Some things should not be remembered."

"It doesn't matter. Without them, I still feel incomplete."

"I won't let you. These memories carry a terrible burden."

"What did happen to me then, huh?" Link exploded. "What do you want to keep hidden from me? I deserve to know why you chose me, of all people!"

"Why I," Link continued, showing the back of his left hand to the goddesses, where the three triangles glowed, "am worthy of this crest, and nobody else."

The goddesses spoke in unison, voices carrying more than a hint of steel. "Remember who you are speaking to, hero."

"Yes, I remember," Link spat. "I am speaking to the goddesses who could intervene to remove the ills that plague your patron land, but don't, who place the responsibility of a nation on a teenage boy, the goddesses who are so incompetent that they cannot even keep the very embodiment of evil imprisoned!"

Link's voice had risen to a shout by the time he finished, and he glared wildly at each of the goddesses.

"Hero," they snapped, enraged, "This imprudence does not become you. Leave at once!"

Link flinched at each word, for they were spoken in a tone like the crack of a whip. Against his will, his legs turned him and began walking him back along the path.

"And hero…"

Link's traitorous legs paused in midstep.

"Few people can come to this place of their own will. It is a dark gift you possess."

Link remained silent, unsure if he should reply.

"Never come here again without our summons."

Link suddenly found himself spiraling into a deep, dark hole. His awareness fell with him, until it finally faded again.

"You have word on the reinforcements?"

Rell swallowed. Ganondorf was unnerving to talk to under ordinary circumstances, but his recent unpredictability made audiences that much more dangerous.

"Several advance riders arrived at the castle hours ago, my lord. If their estimates are accurate, the bulk of the reinforcements should be only a few weeks behind."

"Not good enough," Ganondorf growled. "I want them here by tomorrow evening at the latest."

Rell gaped. "But my lord, that is simply impossible! An army cannot cover nearly two hundred leagues in a day. It just can't be done!"

Ganondorf chuckled. "I know. Which is why I prepared this."

He handed Rell a long stone needle, about eighteen inches long. Glowing runes meandered across its surface, appearing and fading almost of their own volition.

Rell stared at it for a moment. "I don't understand, sir," he said hesitantly.

"Take this and ride out to my army. It shouldn't take you too long if you hurry. Don't worry about the horse."

Rell gently wrapped his fingers around the needle. The only way he would be able to get to the army in time would be if he rode the horse into the ground. He'd done it before, and it wasn't a pleasant experience.

"I can send you most of the way, but you will still be about twenty leagues off. I'll create a portal of sorts outside the stable. Once you get to them, prick your wrist with the needle. Both you and the army will be instantly transported back here."

Rell stared at his leader in awe. "How did you-"

"It was a rather complicated matter of finding the correct materials, divining the requisite runes, and finding an energy source to fuel the spell. It took me about ten minutes."

Rell nearly fainted. The Reapers were bad enough, but a device that could transport thousands of men over dozens of leagues? Crafted in _about ten minutes_? It was unthinkable. "It will be done, my lord," he said, bowing as he exited the chamber.

"One more thing," Ganondorf said, stopping Rell in his tracks. "Do take care that you do not prick yourself before meeting my army. The results, I imagine, would be quite…unpleasant."

He giggled slightly, unable to stop it from coming out.

Rell, visibly unnerved, bowed again, more cautiously this time, and all but ran out of the throne room. He walked down the hall at a swift pace, wanting nothing more than to get away from the thing his leader had become.

Ganondorf sat back on his throne, lighting a flame of darkness in his hand. He stared absently at the small blot of blackness flickering over his hand.

A disturbing question had recently come to him. Why was he doing this? Each time he freed himself from the prison the goddesses constructed, he devoted all of his time and energy into making Hyrule _his._

The answer used to be clear to him: power. He already possessed the Triforce of Power, but he wanted more. He wanted absolute, unparalleled, power.

But, upon further thought, that was ridiculous. What would there be left to do once he had control over everything?

_Power is only a means to an end,_ he mused. _But what happens when you reach the end?_

Nothing. That's what happened at the end. Nothing happened because everything had been done.

_That doesn't seem like a very good ending,_ he thought.

Yet, even when his goal was clear, it had been denied him. Every single time, no matter what strategy he employed, he was thwarted by the thrice-damned hero. No matter how fast he moved, the hero moved faster. Nothing he could do would bring his goal to him.

Yet, he now realized, as his goal was denied, a new one emerged. His rage toward the hero and the gods never faded, and did nothing but strengthen with each encounter.

So that was it, then. That was all he was after now. Power was, after all, only a means to an end.

Revenge seemed like a perfectly acceptable end.

So be it. Revenge would be his goal. His wrath would rage across Hyrule like an unstoppable inferno. Nobody would be safe.

Their blood would be his wine.


	24. Reunion

Zelda walked the razor's edge between life and death. On one side, the light and warmth of life, and on the other, the endless darkness and chill of death.

"Link?" she whispered. "Can you hear me?"

Zelda had discovered this peculiar ability quite by accident, after going swimming in Lake Hylia. She had been very young then, no more than seven years old. Ignoring her parent's warnings, she had swum out farther than she was supposed to, and got herself tangled in some water lilies.

The soldiers watching her took a full two minutes to notice. When they did, they instantly leapt into action, dragging Zelda's limp body to the shore. One ran off to find her parents, while the other pressed on her chest repeatedly, frantically trying to expel the water from her lungs.

Although the soldier accidentally broke two of her ribs and cracked one other, he had saved her life. Before she regained consciousness, however, Zelda noticed something odd: she could "see", in a fashion, into the void of death. She discovered that she was able to put herself in a trance, and, if she was lucky, come into contact with restless spirits who hadn't quite faded yet.

She had used the ability only one other time, mostly because it scared her. When she turned fourteen, the weight of ruling the country was fully passed to her from her advisors. Finding the strain too much, she had sought guidance.

After a few tries, she found a spirit. The lost soul responded to her queries with only a despondent moan, and despite her protests, vanished back into the void.

She continued trying every night for the next week. The few spirits she did encounter either were unwilling to answer her questions, or didn't understand. She was never able to contact the spirits of her parents.

It was a long shot, but she needed Link's courage. Maybe this time she would find who she was looking for. "Are you there, Link?" she asked, leaning further over the border.

Link awoke slowly. The first thing he registered was, as always, the constant pain. However, it had faded to the point where it was just a nagging ache in the back of his skull. Groaning, he forced himself to a sitting position, blinking the sleep from his eyes.

Yawning, he poked his head out of the tent. It was early morning. _How long was I out?_

His thoughts turned back to the memory of that alarmingly lucid dream. Or was it a dream?

For some reason, Link remembered the entire dream as clearly as if he'd been awake. He'd been aware the entire time.

But that was impossible. He'd spoken with the three patron goddesses of Hyrule, the beings who created the world and all that lay upon it. That couldn't be anything other than a dream...could it?

He peeked underneath the leather bracer on his left hand, giving the mark that glowed there a long look. No. It was no dream. It was real.

_So,_ Link thought, pondering this new development. _I've spoken with the goddesses. That's not something everyone can say._

A second tent had been pitched at the far end of the clearing. Link recognized it as his. He looked around the clearing, noticing Firebrand and Sera still asleep, their backs to a tree.

Link thought for a moment. He was in one tent, Firebrand and Sera weren't in tents, so the person in the other tent must be...Zelda!

Link jumped to his feet, instantly awake. He staggered for a moment but, shaking his head to clear it, managed to make his way over to the other tent.

He poked his head inside, confirming his suspicions. Link frowned. She didn't look good. From his quick examination earlier, there wasn't anything wrong with her. Physically, at least.

Yet her skin had a deathly pallor to it, and her breathing was slow and shallow. Link swallowed, suddenly nervous. There was something unnatural about her appearance.

Zelda cast her awareness into the void, allowing her mind to cross the border. _Where is he?_

She continued searching, beginning to panic slightly. He couldn't be gone! Not now, when she needed him. Desperate, she leaned even farther, to the point where she risked tumbling headlong into the void. And once there, she knew there was no coming back.

Link reached out, gently touching Zelda's forearm. "Zelda?"

No response. In fact, the contact only heightened Link's concern. Her skin was icy cold, as if she'd been dead for hours already. Yet her chest continued to rise and fall.

Even as Link watched, her skin took on a horrible shade of gray, as if the very life was seeping out of her. Panicking, he grabbed her shoulder, shaking her violently. "Wake up! Please!"

Ignoring the warnings her mind gave her, Zelda leaned ever farther. The chill of death began to seep into her bones, leeching her spirit. _He has to be here. He has to!_

"Goddammit Zelda, wake up!"

Link desperately pressed his fingers against her throat, checking for a pulse. It was there, but weak...and even as link registered it, the steady _thump _stopped.

Horrified, Link stepped back. Zelda's chest fell, and failed to rise again. "No!"

Link ran forward, placing his left palm on her forehead. "You are _not_ dying if I can help it!"

He didn't even know what he did; the design of three triangles blazed underneath the leather gauntlet, the light flowing into Zelda's body. Link, of course, didn't see it.

In an instant, her colour returned. She sat up, sucking in a breath, eyes wide and unfocused. Her heart paused, then broke into a hammering gallop, beating against her ribs.

"No," she mumbled, "I need to...find...need his courage..."

"Zelda," Link said, holding her shoulders. "Look at me."

Zelda's eyes cleared, and met Link's. After a moment, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. _What the…_

Zelda's mouth dropped open as she recognized him. She reached out with a trembling hand, touching his face to make sure it wasn't an illusion. Even when her fingers met flesh, she expected his face to melt away.

"Oh, Goddesses," she whispered. "Link?"

He nodded. "At your service, now and always."

Zelda shook her head. "But I don't understand. You were dead. I felt you die."

Link frowned. "As far as I know, I didn't die," he said hesitantly. "Although there is an unexplainable gap in my memory that the goddesses refuse to fill."

Zelda gaped at him. "You spoke with the goddesses?"

Link made a face. "Yes. They weren't exactly the best company."

All this new information was making Zelda's head spin. Link had come back out of nowhere, despite the fact that she was sure he had died, and had spoken with the goddesses. And, on top of that, he was actually having a real conversation with her.

Zelda blinked. Link had said something, and she'd completely missed it. "I'm sorry. What?"

"How did you survive whatever happened here?" Link repeated.

Zelda shuddered. The last thing she wanted to do was dredge up those memories. Those…things had done horrible things to her.

"I cast a quick spell that hid my appearance," she said. "It's a simple trick that everyone with the Triforce of Wisdom knows. I actually used it to sneak past you once or twice."

Link frowned, and started to say something, but Zelda cut him off. "The things that attacked didn't recognize me, but that didn't stop them from…"

The next few words were lost in a loud sob. Zelda wiped at the tears running down her cheeks. "I don't want to talk about it."

"I understand," Link said gently.

Zelda stared at him, bewildered. He'd never used that tone with her before. It contained almost a hint of – dare she say it – warmth? Come to think about it, his entire demeanour was different. When her eyes first found his, there was something that went far beyond simple concern for a liege. It was almost…

Link stood up, spoiling the moment. "We should take you somewhere safer, mi'lady," Link said in that annoying frosty tone of his.

Zelda almost groaned. Almost. Maybe he hadn't changed so much, after all.

Link walked across the clearing, to where Sera and Firebrand were still asleep, oblivious to what had just transpired. He woke Firebrand with a light kick to the ribs, Sera with a shake of the shoulder.

Firebrand yawned loudly, looking up into the sky. "Aw, dammit Link. What's so important that you have to wake us up _now_?"

"She's awake," Link hissed.

Firebrand glared at him. "Who, Sera? I know _she's_ awake."

Link sighed. "No, not Sera," he explained patiently. "The princess we found in a semi-comatose state last night."

Firebrand blinked, uncomprehending for the most part. "Oh. That her."

"We should probably head back," Link said. "I think I've recovered enough to get us all back to Belmange."

"Belmange?" Zelda said from the other side of the clearing. "Why there?"

"Long story," Link said, busying himself with the tents. "It's where Kalo and the Castle Town refugees are."

Meanwhile, Sera sauntered over to the princess. "Nice to meet you," she said, dipping in a graceful curtsy.

Zelda eyed the other woman suspiciously. "I don't believe we've been introduced."

"Pardon me," Sera said, grinning. "Where are my manners? Sera Markeri, at your service."

Zelda nodded. "_Now_ it's nice to meet you."

Link finished stuffing the last tent into the pack, which he tossed to Firebrand. "Breakfast's going to have to wait for the moment." Then, to Zelda, "We should get to Belmange as soon as possible, mi'lady."

Zelda frowned. "It'll take about three days to get to Belmange from here. I don't see how ten minutes to eat would make much of a difference."

Link shrugged. "You'd be surprised."

He cast a glance in her direction. "I'm sure you don't expect to travel in that?"

Zelda frowned. "What do you mean?"

Link sighed, reaching deep down into his well of patience, gesturing toward her torn, bloodied dress. "What I mean, mi'lady, is that your attire is hardly appropriate for this kind of travel."

"But Link," Sera started, "Why can't you just Sh-"

Link cut her off with a fierce glare. He wanted to keep his unusual ability a relative secret. Besides, he still wasn't feeling strong enough to Shift four people over dozens of leagues.

He turned back to Zelda. "Where was I?"

Zelda folded her arms. "My unsuitable attire?"

Link swallowed. This was _not_ going to be fun.


	25. The Needle

Kalo strode through the halls of the High Council. The only sound was the echo of his footsteps bouncing back from the walls. He paused before the doors of the inner sanctum, considering. The Council members wouldn't be in there, and nobody else was permitted access. Yet this was where the meeting was to take place.

Kalo would have much preferred a time and place of his own choosing, but the man he was meeting was quite insistent.

Hyrule was losing. Simple as that. This was the only thing left for Kalo to do. Their last hope of salvation. Any other path promised only complete annihilation. He didn't like it, but some things were more important. He had a wife and children to think about, after all.

Gathering his courage, he entered the sanctum. The man he was meeting was waiting inside.

"I am pleased you made it," the man said.

Kalo shrugged. "It was a little tricky getting here, for a good reason. You're not exactly popular around here, and I shouldn't be seen talking to you."

"Yes, that is most regrettable," the man replied. "It's a pity. They don't trust me, yet I hold the key to their survival."

"In more ways than one," Kalo added.

The man burst out laughing. "Yes, I do, don't I?"

Kalo's grin faded, replaced by a more serious expression. "What do you want me to do?"

"Listen. Wait. The time will present itself. It is imperative that you do not act too early, or too late. The timing must be exact."

Worry flashed across Kalo's face. "Are you sure there is no other course of action?"

"No," the man replied darkly. "There is none."

Kalo sagged, relieved. "Good."

"Mi'lady," Link attempted to explain. "You simply can't travel for three days in a bloodstained, ruined dress! Aside from attracting attention, it's simply too impractical!"

"Of course," Zelda replied coolly. "However, I'm not wearing those!"

She indicated a loose shirt and pair of leggings Sera had offered. Zelda turned back to Link, fuming. "I would prefer to travel in something a little more _womanly_, if you catch my drift."

"Unless you would rather wear my tunic, that's not going to happen," Link said.

"Besides," Zelda protested, "Going about cross-dressing is far more likely to attract attention than this dress!"

Sera frowned at this remark, for she was wearing an identical set of clothes to the ones she was proffering. She opened her mouth, and then decided better against it.

There was an almost audible _snap_ as Link's last shreds of patience broke. "Look Princess," he snarled. "That dress is ruined and impractical as it is. You have two choices as I see it. You can either take Sera's clothes, or you can go naked. It's up to you which will attract more attention."

Zelda's mouth worked, but nothing came out. How _dare_ he use that tone with her? Then she looked into his eyes and thought better of it. Something in his eyes said that it wasn't a good idea to go against him right now.

"Fine," she muttered.

Link gestured roughly. "You can change over there. I'm not setting up a tent again for you."

Without even looking back, he stomped over to Firebrand and Sera, rubbing his temples. His headache still hadn't gone away, and it was souring his mood. Firebrand nodded in the direction of Zelda. "Real piece of work, isn't she?"

Link made a face. "She's not that bad. It's just...a big change for her. She came face-to-face with death recently, and quite possibly worse."

Firebrand grinned. "I might just saunter over there and see what she's like."

Sera, who had been drinking from a waterskin, choked and burst out laughing. Link glared at both of them. "That's not funny," he growled.

Firebrand wiped away a tear of mirth. "Yes it is. The look on your face was priceless." A devilish look crossed his face. "Although I am curious..."

Link forced his face into a smile, although inwardly he was fuming at the pointless delays. First Firebrand had gotten himself tangled in one of the tents, and now there was the issue with Zelda's clothes.

Although Link's arguments were true, there was a third reason he wanted Zelda to change. Not only did he not want word of the princess traveling through the kingdom, where it could mutate into all sorts of ridiculous rumours, but it was likely that the Ferusari were hunting her down, possibly for use as ransom. And whatever had attacked earlier might still be out there...

Zelda emerged from the trees, leaving the destroyed dress behind. The clothes fit a bit loosely, Link noticed, but they would do. "One more thing," he added.

Zelda gave him a perfect "what now?" look.

"You know that trick you used to fool the...whatever they were?"

Zelda frowned. "You want me to disguise myself?"

Link shrugged. "Those things might still be looking for you. And, to be honest, I'm not sure if I can protect you."

Zelda nodded, a bit pale-faced. "Good idea."

She closed her eyes, concentrating, and her features slid slightly. Her nose lengthened slightly, and her eyes moved a little farther apart. When she opened her eyes, they had gone from blue to hazel.

In short, she was now almost unrecognizable

"Right," Link muttered. "That's going to take some getting used to."

Then louder, "Are we ready yet?"

Sera and Firebrand nodded. "Good. We've wasted enough daylight as it is. Let's go!"

Rell slammed his heels into the horse's heaving flanks, forcing it to run faster. The horse whinnied in protest, tossing its head, but kept going nonetheless.

Ganondorf's main army was in sight just over a league away. Unfortunately, the sun was already setting, making the timing dangerously close. Rell wasn't sure what would happen if he missed Ganondorf's deadline, and frankly didn't want to.

He was just over a kilometre away from the army when the horse collapsed under him. Rell tumbled off the horse, slamming into the ground. His wrist broke with a sickening _snap_ as he tumbled into a boulder.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, Rell walked over to his horse, which was lying on the ground, sweat lathering its flanks. The horse's eyes stared sightlessly, and a trickle of blood dribbled from its mouth.

Without any hesitation, Rell drew his knife and swiped it across the horse's throat. The beast struggled for a moment, but quickly went still. Rell sheathed his knife, leaving the horse's blood on it, and turned toward the approaching army. The kill had been a mercy. The horse's lungs had given out, and it would have died anyway. At least that's what he told himself.

Holding his wrist, Rell walked toward the army. "Halt!" one of the chieftains called out. "You better be Ferusari, son."

Rell's mouth twisted in distaste as he recognized the chieftain. Tertus. The two had never liked each other.

"The great lord sent me to bring you to him," he announced.

Tertus frowned. "Why? What's the point? We're getting there."

"Yes, but not as fast as he wishes."

The chieftain shook his head. "There's no way to get there any faster. I'm afraid this was a wasted trip."

Rell smiled. "Actually, I do have a way to get you there faster."

"Really?" one of the other slavers asked, leaning forward. "Is it a shortcut?"

"Better," Rell said, withdrawing the stone spike from the pouch on his back.

"Have the men line up," Rell ordered.

"Line up!" Tertus bellowed, his call taken up by the other chieftains in the army. The command took several minutes to execute, Rell ruing each second that slipped by.

Finally, they were in place. "Let's go," Rell announced, pricking his broken wrist with the needle.

A small drop of blood oozed out of the puncture wound, sinking into the surface of the stone. In response, the runes on it blazed, swirling around more energetically.

"Just within the deadline," Rell said, glancing up at the sinking sun.

He paused, frowning. A strange coldness was spreading up his arm. He glanced down, and his frown turned into an expression of abject horror.

The trickle of blood from his wrist had turned into a flood, his arm turning white as the blood was drained from it. His heart faltered, then began hammering as the stone needle drained the blood from his body. In a panic, Rell attempted to yank the stone needle from his wrist, but to no avail. It seemed to be cemented in place.

Desperate, he slammed the needle against the ground, attempting to break it off, but, energized by the blood it greedily sucked in, it held fast. Giving in to the panic, Rell threw back his head and screamed even as the cold whiteness spread across his face and chest. His heart, starved of blood to pump, slammed in his chest one last time, and stopped.

Rell collapsed, the air in his lungs hissing out of his mouth, his skin almost completely white. The last few drops of blood in his body sank into the needle's surface.

The slavers stared in shock at the corpse in front of them. One forked a sign to ward off evil.

Then the runes on the needle blazed in a blinding nova of red light. The flash encompassed a good portion of the army, better than five thousand men, swallowing them up in a wash of crimson fire.

When the light faded, a chunk of the army was gone, spirited away by the blinding light.

Those

Krael spread some bean paste on a slab of bread, eying the plate in front of him. _The chef really outdid himself tonight,_ he thought as he took a bite.

Many of the other slavers were also appalled at the lack of meat on the table. A few, like Krael, simply shrugged and ate what was in front of them without protest.

Krael shook his head, chuckling past the mouthful of food. Of course the fresh meat had run out. The slavers had been eating like pigs the last few days, without even a thought for rationing. Only now, with nothing but dried and smoked pork left over, did the slavers reconsider.

"Hey Krael,"

Krael looked over to Japith, who was gesturing to his plate. "You want my hummus?"

Krael shrugged. "Sure."

He was just reaching for the plate when a blinding red flash came from outside. Krael swore, dropping the plate, shielding his eyes.

"What the hell was that?"


	26. I Want To Be Alone

Link forced his way out of the forest, squinting against the fading sunlight. His eyes had adjusted to the dimness inside the eerily silent woods, and even the faint light of the sunset was painful.

He looked back at the path sliced into the woods, where Firebrand and Sera were pushing their way out. The path had apparently been cut only a couple days before, but the vegetation had grown back with startling speed.

Zelda followed a moment later, looking quite uncomfortable in Sera's clothing. "How do you even walk in these things?" she complained. "It's too tight where it should be loose, and too loose where it should be tight!"

"Oh, you get used to them," Sera said, grinning wickedly. She was thoroughly enjoying tormenting the princess. "Watch out for fleas, though. They like to hang out in the crotch."

Zelda's screams drowned out any rebuke Link might have made. Which he didn't, because he was too busy hiding a smile.

Firebrand glanced back at Zelda. Once again, he found himself wondering what it must be like for her. To watch her kingdom burn right in front of her…it must be unbearable.

Firebrand knew the feeling. To watch, helpless, as everything you knew and loved burned until nothing remained but cold, scorched earth.

The fire called him, spoke gently to him. It wanted to play, to embrace him in its heat. But Firebrand knew better. It was devious and sly, and would consume him if given the slightest chance

Trudging along, Firebrand forced his mind back to the here and now. The sun had dipped beneath the horizon, plunging the land into darkness. Firebrand looked up into the stars, the only place where he could hope to find companionship. They burned like he did, forming a network of sparks in the blackness of the night.

He sighed. One could say he had found companionship with Link and Sera. But, like all his friendships, it wouldn't last. As soon as they found out his secret, they would turn on him, just like everyone else in the past.

Firebrand closed his mind to the memories that tried to surface. Some got through anyway.

_Don't burn me._

_Get out of here, flamer._

_They should make you burn._

The insults changed, but the final word was always the same. That final, hated word.

_Monster._

_Monster._

_Monster._

Every time he would try to convince himself that this time would be different. These ones would understand. But they never did.

_They should burn. All of them!_

_No!_ Firebrand thought, forcing the fire down. _I am the master here! I've had enough of burning!_

"Firebrand?"

Firebrand opened his eyes. He'd been standing there with his eyes closed, warring emotions on his face. Hate, remorse, pain…It probably looked quite odd.

Link was looking at him with something that could be described as concern. But it was a lie. They all lied. Their concern, their friendship, all of it was false. How could it be true, when they turned against him at the drop of a hat.

They would burn. They would all burn.

_No! I am in control! Not you!_

With an immense effort of will, Firebrand managed to seize control of his rebellious mind.

Now Zelda was there, Triforce of Wisdom shining on her outstretched hand. She held it out to him, eyes closed in concentration. "I sense conflict within you," she said slowly.

Firebrand gently pushed her hand away. "I'm fine. Really. I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine."

Zelda's blue eyes stared into his. She had dropped her disguise until they actually met someone, mostly because it "itched like crazy."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

Firebrand almost told her. Almost. But he didn't trust her. He didn't trust anyone.

Link dropped his pack and started to erect the tent, making camp for the night. "Do you want a tent?" he asked.

Firebrand waved a hand. "No thanks. I like to sleep under the stars."

Link shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Zelda directed one last, concerned look at him before ducking into her tent. For some reason, that look made Firebrand's heart ache.

He unrolled a blanket, laying it over the grassy field. The stars sang to him in their ethereal, just-heard song. Firebrand sighed. He knew he wouldn't sleep tonight.

Firebrand wasn't the only one fro whom sleep was proving elusive. Link tossed and turned in his tent, trying to find a comfortable position. His mind was wide awake, thinking about…everything.

_Why me?_he thought dismally. The princess had his heart, but didn't even seem to notice. Instead, she seemed to have immediately taken to Firebrand. Goddesses knew why.

_Leave it alone, Link, _he told himself._It's not meant to be._

He agreed with this wholeheartedly. How could he ever love a princess, anyway?

How could a princess ever love him?

Link turned over again. He'd never allowed himself to get close to anyone. Emotions just got in the way. Up till now, he'd been able to control them, to lock them away where they couldn't do any harm.

But not anymore. Now his emotions swirled in an unstoppable tide, forcing him to do all sorts of ridiculous stuff. Like fall in love with a princess.

Link sighed. He just couldn't get past that, could he? He was in love with a princess. He'd never loved anyone before, and the feeling was altogether new to him. And not entirely unwelcome, either. But he could do without the emotional stress.

Link laid on his back, trying with all his might to sleep. And then there was Sera.

The moment he'd met her, she'd made an impression on him. Her fiery personality, her stunning looks and obvious intelligence would make an impression on every man.

But the main thing that drew Link's attention when he'd met her was her inner strength. She'd pursued him with a dogged persistence that he rarely saw. When he tried to send her away, she stubbornly refused.

Yet, above all else, was the look she gave the thief that almost killed her so long ago. She knew she was about to die, yet her eyes still blazed with defiance.

"Dammit," Link muttered, shaking his mind free of those thoughts. A painful relationship was the last thing he needed.

He poked his head out of his tent, thinking he would go for a walk to clear his mind. Firebrand had got a fire going, he noticed. The tall man was staring into the flames, his mind obviously far away.

Link watched, momentarily transfixed. The haunted look in Firebrand's eyes…it scared him. As he'd done several times over the last few days, Link wondered what Firebrand's past was like. He had originally thought he was in Thieves' Domain because of bad luck, but upon seeing that expression, he wasn't so sure.

Link ducked back in the tent, resolving to keep an eye on Firebrand. Sure, he was his friend, but he didn't know enough about him.

After all, it didn't pay to trust people you didn't know much about.

**Woohoo! Black pit of angst! I didn't actually expect throwing the story this way, though. It just kinda happened. And yes, Firebrand is my favourite character.**


	27. False Trust

Ganondorf sat up, startled by the flash. A moment later, the corner of his mouth curled up in a smile. "Finally," he whispered.

He rose from the throne and strode toward the main gate of the castle, outside which the army had appeared. As he walked, a wide grin spread across his face, unnoticed by its wearer. Finally. After days of painful inactivity, he would be able to sally forth and exact his revenge on those who dared to take his goal away from him.

Rell's death was a pity, but it was unavoidable. A spell like that required a large energy source, which Ganondorf didn't have access to. So, he used the next best thing: Rell's life.

Against his will, a high-pitched giggle escaped his mouth as he pictured the unfortunate chieftain's grisly demise. He couldn't help it. It was just so...thrilling.

In a slightly detached manner, he wondered if he was going insane. Maybe he'd been insane to begin with. _If one is insane, does he wonder if he's insane?_

Well, insane or not, he was thinking more clearly than he ever had. These last few days had given him time to think. Not just about his motives, but about his entire situation. Some of the conclusions he'd arrived at were quite shocking, to say the least.

And the respite had given him time to come up with a plan that could not fail. Ah, revenge was so sweet, yet so fleeting. A pity he would not be able to enjoy his victims' pain for long. Especially that cursed hero.

He was out there somewhere. Whenever Ganondorf forced his way back into the world, he always appeared. Always, with that horrid blade that was his only weakness…

At least it used to be.

He strode to the balcony, magically amplifying his voice. The army had appeared outside the castle, in the perfect spot for Ganondorf to deliver a rousing speech.

"My brethren," he bellowed. "I brought you here using the power that is my right. Now let us go forth and take the land that is yours!"

He stopped for a moment. The expected roar of approval never came. Instead, he heard only a confused buzz. He lowered his arms, scowling. It seemed the Ferusari were more affected by Rell's death than he was.

"Listen," he said, placing his hands on the railing. "We all make sacrifices for the greater good. The one I sent to bring you here was one of those. But we should not be afraid. True courage does not come from valiant deeds, but from the willingness to sacrifice everything you know for a common goal."

_Ironic, that,_ he thought, grinning. _My enemy is courage, yet here I am lecturing my army about it._

As he spoke, he reached out with his mind, prodding the Ferusari's collective consciousness, wiping away their anger and suspision.

His words and mental prodding had the desired effect. The buzz stopped, replaced by a weak cheer, which quickly strengthened into a deafening roar.

Ganondorf smiled grimly. The final attack was still far off.

But he had the loyalty of the Ferusari under him. And that, for the moment, was good enough.

Link sat up, rubbing his eyes. Just as he predicted, he hadn't slept at all the previous night. Judging from Firebrand's bloodshot eyes, neither had he.

Sera, oblivious to their exhaustion, bustled around the camp, boiling water for tea and taking down the tents. The entire time, she lectured both men on how lazy they were and how they should learn to appreciate mornings.

"At least we're up," Firebrand grunted, gesturing to Zelda's tent. "She hasn't moved since last night."

Link glared at the offending tent in a foul mood. What gave her the right to sleep in?

Finally losing his temper, he stomped over to the tent, and delivered a swift kick to the tent poles. As a result, the tent collapsed. A form inside the tent thrashed for a moment, rudely awoken by the collapsing fabric.

After a moment, the form stilled, and some muffled cursing emanated from the tent. "That language is hardly befitting of a princess," Link called.

A dishevelled head poked out from the tent. "Fuck what befits me."

Link chuckled, giving Zelda a hand. "We should get moving. We're probably needed back in the city. And the people should know you're safe."

"What's your plan when we get back?" Sera asked.

"Find Kalo, announce Zelda's survival, take command of the armed forces, and organize an immediate defense. Or a counterattack."

Sera frowned. "If the slavers haven't attacked yet, they probably won't for a while."

"You have no way of knowing that," Link replied. "Every day we tarry increases the chance that they'll strike. For all we know, Belmange is under siege as we speak. And if it's anything like Castle Town, its not going to take very long."

Link frowned as he thought. Everyone who could describe the power of the cannons was dead, either killed in Link's last-ditch defence or killed with Zelda. He was the only one who could possibly replicate them.

He shook his head free of pessimistic thoughts. "We should move as fast as possible. Maybe stop by the next village for supplies." He paused. "And maybe horses."

He looked at Firebrand. "Where's the nearest village?"

Firebrand gave him a blank look. "What, you expect me to know?"

Link glared at him. "You have a map."

"Actually, I have it," Sera said, squinting at the parchment. "Took it for safekeeping. Anyway, the closest village looks like Erson, about half a league northeast."

"Erson," Link said, "That's convenient. I have someone there who owes me a favour."

"Good," Sera replied, flashing him a smile.

Link blinked, suddenly forgetting what he was thinking about. He scowled, trying to make himself focus. _This would be a lot easier if I didn't have two very pretty women as distractions._

About an hour later, Link saw the pillar of smoke rising from where the village should have been. Firebrand saw it too, and promptly began a scathing litany of curses.

Zelda simply stared, a single tear running down her cheek. "My people," she murmered.

Firebrand looked over, and away just as quickly. He couldn't even imagine what she must have been going through. As the leader of a nation, the pain of every citizen was shared by her. To still remain calm and relatively capable of leadership in the face of this was unbelievable.

Link strode forward, a grim expression on his face. "They were here," he spat.

Sera gave him a concerned glance, sword held upright in front of her. "You really hate them, don't you?"

Link turned his intense gaze on her. "They killed my family. They destroyed everything I loved. Hoe could I not hate them?"

The entire time, he kept flipping that knife.

Flip.

Flip.

Flip.


	28. Fire

Firebrand grabbed the back of Link's tunic, yanking him backward. "Are you crazy?" he hissed.

Link glared at him. "What's the problem?"

"I know what you're doing," Firebrand growled. "You're going to charge in there like the bullheaded idiot you are, kick some slaver ass, and save the day, right?"

Link scowled. "I was considering something like that."

"Well, it won't work!" Firebrand said, shaking Link. "Wake up, dumbass! There has to be dozens of them there! Maybe even hundreds! The only thing you're going to accomplish by charging in there is glorified suicide."

"If I can take a few of the bastards with me, I can die happy," Link growled.

"And that would be a waste," Zelda cut in. "Hyrule needs you, Link. Something tells me you're the only person capable of defeating this darkness."

Link gaped at her for a moment. "Who asked you?" he finally sputtered.

"Nobody did," Sera spoke up. "But she's right. You can't just charge in there."

Link threw his arms in the air. "Is _anyone_ siding with me today?"

"Which is why," Sera continued, "we need a plan."

Zelda blinked. "We can just avoid this village," she said. "There's nothing we can…nothing we can do for the people here."

"Think realistically," Sera said. "We're out of provisions, we need horses, and the only reasonable place to get them is this village."

Firebrand glared at her, releasing Link. "Fine," he said.

Link crept over a hill near the village, lying prone at its crest. Sera crawled up next to him, handing him a small spyglass. "You could probably use this," she said.

Link nodded, peering at the village. He paused for a moment, scanning the area. "Forty, maybe fifty slavers," he whispered. He focused the spyglass on an older slaver with a large ram's horn strapped to his shoulder. "One chieftan."

Some activity caught Link's eye, and he focused the spyglass on it. He watched a line of naked, bloodied people paraded through the village by several slavers. His eyebrows furrowed. Captives. That made things more difficult.

"Plenty of houses to use for cover," he said, scanning the village again. "Not too many of them are burnt. And the western edge is relatively unguarded."

Link crept back down the hill, taking care not to attract attention. Once he was sure he was out of sight, he stood up, handing the spyglass back to Sera.

"There aren't too many," he said. "And we have the element of surprise."

Firebrand shook his head. "Four idiots against fifty slavers," he remarked, chuckling. "And here I was hoping we'd actually get back alive."

Chains rattled as he brought out his ball-and-chains.

Sera glanced at the unusual weapons. "This is off topic, but what are those? I've never seen weapons like those before."

Firebrand grinned. "They're called _shinjari._ Weapons from a nomadic tribe that comes by Thieves' Domain every now and then. I saved the life of one of them, and he gave them to me, along with lessons on how to use them."

Sera nodded, running a cloth along her sword. "Don't really want to know what those could do to someone."

"You can look away if you want."

"Can we focus, please?" Link said. "We'll approach from the western side and ambush them in the houses. Keep it quick, and keep it quiet."

He glanced at the sword Sera had strapped across her back. "Please tell me you know how to use that."

Sera snorted. "That question's so stupid I'm not even going to answer. In case you forget, I defeated you. Twice."

Link waved a hand. "That was before I remembered my training. Still, good point."

He rubbed idly at his arm, wincing slightly.

Sera glanced over at Link, noticing a small stain on his sleeve. To her alarm, the stain began to drip and spread. "Link, you're bleeding," she said.

Link glanced at his arm. "Aw, dammit."

He rolled up his sleeve, exposing a wad of bloody bandages. Blood was seeping through them. Sera stared, shocked. "What happened?"

Link glanced up as he tightened the bandages. "Result from our little skirmish the other day."

Sera winced. "Sorry."

Link frowned, rubbing his arm. "It's been causing me a bit of trouble, I admit."

Sera's embarrassment faded, quickly replaced by concern. "Link, let me see it."

"No, it's fine-"

Cutting him off, Sera strode over, slid up his sleeve, and tore the bandages off. The five-inch wound flamed up at her. The gash was swollen and looked on the brink of infection.

Sera's mouth dropped open. "What the hell were you thinking? You need to take care of this!"

"No time," Link said brusquely, wrapping the bloody rags back around his arm. "I'll take care of it later."

He glanced at Zelda. "You should find somewhere to hide until it's safe."

"I can take care of myself," she said icily, a blue flame flickering to life above her hand.

Link raised his eyebrows in mock amazement. "Ooo, a hand-candle. So useful in combat."

Glaring, Zelda flung the flame at a nearby bush, which immediately crumbled into ash.

Link shrugged. "So I was wrong."

_We're just stalling,_ he thought. _Should we really be doing this?_

They could all die. And where would Hyrule be then?

_So don't die._

A minute later, they were crouching behind a house at the edge of the village.

"Hide in houses," Link muttered, crouching by a wall. "Take them out one by one."

"Go," he whispered, dashing for the nearest house. His knife flickered between his fingers as he flipped it idly.

He crouched in the doorframe, waiting, as two slavers walked past, chatting, weapons slung casually over their shoulders.

The knife spun more quickly through his fingers as adrenaline pumped into his system. He tensed his muscles, preparing to strike…and then the unthinkable happened.

The knife slipped from his fingers, clattering loudly to the floor. The slavers jumped, turned, and saw Link crouching inside the house. They stared at each other for a moment. Link smiled sheepishly.

Then he went for the knife. The slavers immediately leapt into action, the closer one sending a hard kick into Link's ribs. Link fell backwards, hand scrabbling for something, _anything _to use as a weapon.

His fingers wrapped around a pot handle, which he swung wildly, a lucky swing clipping a slaver on the jaw. He stumbled backwards, cursing, giving Link time to scramble to his feet.

The slaver ran forwards, rage in his eyes. Link ducked under his wild swing and smashed the pot into the left side of his face, breaking his cheekbone and knocking him out. His partner dove in, throwing a small axe at Link.

He ducked under it, sending the pot back at the slaver. It hit him in the face, breaking his nose and sending him stumbling backwards. The slaver cried out, holding his face.

Link winced. This was making far more noise than it should. Already things were going wrong. Bending down, he scooped the fallen slaver's sword off the ground and ended the other's life with a diagonal stroke across the chest.

Even before the dead man hit the floor, Link grabbed his knife and quickly slit the unconscious slaver's throat. It didn't pay to leave enemies alive behind you.

He quickly peeked out the door, groaning as he noticed about a dozen slavers converging on the house, attracted by the noise. Desperate, he sorted through his memories for something that would help.

After a moment, an astonishing fact occurred to him. He was fluent in Ferusari. _I must have learned it during the Great War, _he thought wryly, putting a sentence together in his head. _Guess it does pay to know your enemy._

"Don't worry," he called out in the harsh language. _"_Everything is fine!"

"What happened?" one called back. "We heard a loud noise."

"I, uh…" Link thought furiously. "I tripped over the kitchen."

He cursed under his breath. Wrong word. He wanted _kulaz, _not _kulas._

"Doorframe. Sorry. Doorframe."

"You okay?" the slaver called back. "You sound strange. And your accent is unusual."

"I…uh…have a cold?"

Link watched, disbelieving, as the slavers shrugged and walked away. They had actually bought it. Unbelievable. Maybe this was going to work after-

The group of slavers suddenly fell to their knees, clawing at their throats. A few gasping noises issued forth, and they collapsed, eyes staring widely into oblivion.

Link swore again, looking around for the source of the...whatever it was. Zelda stepped out of the adjacent house, eyes blazing. "I said take them out one by one!" Link hissed. "That doesn't mean use some kind of suffocation bubble on an entire bloody group!"

Link fell silent, eyes wide. His voice had risen to a shout by the end. Worse, every slaver in the village had fallen silent when the group of slavers met their untimely demise, so Link's enraged voice had carried over the entire village. They now streamed into the area Link and Zelda were hiding in.

"Fucking hell!" Link yelled, yanking the throwing axe from the wall and dispatching the closest Ferusari. Zelda wisely hid back in the house, biting off a snappy "now look what you did."

Link crouched behind the door, sword in one hand and knife in the other as the slavers moved in. He fervently hoped things were going better for Firebrand and Sera.

Firebrand crept up behind the oblivious slaver, _shinjari_ held loosely in his hand. Three more steps and he would be close enough to strike. Two more…One more…

A sudden burst of noise came from the other end of the village. A muffled clang rang out, mixed with frantic shouting. The slaver Firebrand was sneaking up behind tensed and looked in the direction of shouting…and saw Firebrand in his peripherals.

Without hesitation, Firebrand lashed out, the five-pound iron ball crushing the man's skull. "Sorry buddy," he whispered. "You got in my way."

From the corner of the village, he heard Link scream, "Fucking hell!"

Firebrand winced. He wasn't surprised in the slightest that this had blown up. There wasn't a snowball's chance in hell that a thief, a merchant's daughter, a bodyguard and a princess could take on enough slavers to sack a village. The entire situation was stupid.

But he could erase the slavers from the village, eradicate them completely like the vermin they were. All he had to do was submit…

"No!" he muttered, head in his hands. "I won't submit."

A floorboard creaked behind him, and he whirled, _shinjari_ whirling in complex patterns around him. He flicked one of the balls toward the slaver's shoulder, shattering his arm, and dispatched him with three crushing blows to the head and chest.

_That's what you get for going for the kill instead of warning the rest, dickhead,_ he thought. _Now you're dead, and I'm still running around unfettered._

Through a window, he noticed some activity. Several slavers were dragging someone along. His head lolled, and blood streamed down his face from a cut on his forehead. _Dammit, Link._

Sera's sword spun through her hands, her form perfect as she dueled the slaver in front of her. Sweat broke out on her brow as he pushed her back with a series of aggressive attacks. He was good. Very good.

Link's idea of guerilla warfare didn't seem like such a good idea now. Both him and Sera had grossly misinterpreted the situation. Going ahead without any provisions risked death. But single-handedly storming the village, which had at first seemed like an acceptable alternative, was now just tantamount to suicide.

Sera reversed her grip on the sword, beginning the form Boar Tusks. It was by far her favourite, and its unexpected assault generally caught opponents off guard. But the slaver anticipated the unusual move and transitioned smoothly to the appropriate defensive form.

Sera gritted her teeth as her sword met the slaver's once again. This was taking too long, and making too much noise. Desperate, she whipped the sword into a circular strike, knocking the slaver's sword away in a brilliant display of her trademark improvisation.

The slaver sank to his knees, clutching the deep cut she had put into his wrist. He glared defiantly up at her, waiting for her to deliver the final blow. Sera raised her sword, and froze. She couldn't do it.

She'd never killed anything before, and now, when the heat of the moment had passed, killing the man in front of her seemed like a barbaric act. In all the time she spent learning the sword, it had never occurred to her that she would have to spill blood with it.

Biting her lip, she backed off, the point of the sword falling to the ground. The slaver immediately leapt forward, tackling her to the ground and knocking the sword out of her hand in the process.

Grabbing her wrist, he yanked it up behind her back. Sera arched her back in pain, breath hissing noisily from her clenched jaw. The slaver yanked her to her feet, and roughly forced her out the door into the center of the village.

The man Sera assumed was the chieftain walked over, casting a contemptuous look at her. He asked something in a gruff language, the slaver holding Sera responding. Evidently, it was some sort of joke, because the chieftain and surrounding slavers laughed.

The chieftain walked toward her, smiling broadly. He addressed her in heavily accented Hylian. "You survivor from village, eh? Hide in house, try to be hero. Like friend over here."

He gestured toward another group of slavers, all of whom were desperately trying to hold Link down. As she watched, one placed a knife at his throat. Immediately, Link froze, staring warily at the slaver holding the knife.

Sera gritted her teeth. This was not good. Unless Firebrand and Zelda were able to do something, and _fast_, then they were dead.

At a barked command from the chieftain, the slaver released Sera's arm. She quickly backed away from him, rubbing her sore shoulder. "What do you intend to do with me?" she asked, glaring at the chieftain. "Parade me around like the rest of them?"

In response, the chieftain backhanded her across the face, sending her to the ground. She stared up at him, shocked, a dribble of blood dripping from her cut lip. The chieftain roughly hauled her to her feet, gripping her by the throat. "You women need to learn your place, yeah?" he growled. "Learn to submit, like supposed to."

Sera looked around desperately. _Firebrand better have one hell of a trick up his sleeve._

Another small group of slavers walked in, one dragging silent and pale-faced Firebrand, the other leading Zelda along by swordpoint.

Sera groaned. So much for Link's plan. The chieftain glared at all of them for a moment. Then he waved a hand. "Put them with the rest."

He seemed to reconsider. "Leave this one, though. I want to break her myself."

At this, Link lost it. Throwing caution to the wind, he slammed an elbow into the knife-wielding slaver's face, grabbing the knife that fell from his fingers. He Shifted himself out of the group of slavers, and, roaring in primal rage, rammed the knife into the chieftain's neck.

A moment later, he was tackled by the rest of the slavers. One smashed a fist into Link's neck, filling Link's head with stars. With his dying breath, the chieftain gave a command in Ferusari that Firebrand recognized from years before. "Ka mon jire! Kill them all!"

Teeth gritted in rage, the slavers grabbed their weapons and paraded the four captives in front of the others. _They mean to use us as an example,_ Firebrand realized. All at once, the reality of the situation dawned on him. _We're all going to die. We did something stupid, and now they're going to kill us._

Once again, he was going to lose everything he cared about, and this time he wouldn't survive. Death would be a mercy at that point. But one thought overrode all others: _I don't want to die!_

His mind raced, trying to come up with a solution. There was none. None that he was willing to use, at least. So that was it. Firebrand bowed his head, closing his eyes. He and his friends were going to die, and there was nothing he could do about it.

_Yes there is…_

_No! I won't submit to you!_

_Do it. You'll die otherwise._

_I can't…I'll…I'll…_

_Burn them._

His eyes opened, but there was nothing of Firebrand in them. A cold, calculating intelligence shone from them. And suddenly it was gone, eclipsed by a nova of rage.

At once, the slavers holding Firebrand down were flung back by an explosion of heat, their skin blackening and crisping before they even hit the ground. Screaming incoherently, he flung the fire at the other slavers, blasting the flesh off their bones.

The rest dropped their weapons and fled. Firebrand stalked after them, the air around him crackling with heat. _None shall escape._

Firebrand thrust his hand forward, and an ungodly inferno ripped through the village, reducing the houses to piles of blackened kindling and incinerating the slavers running away from him.

One looked back, watched as one of his comrades screamed and fell as the inferno engulfed him. The fire stopped just short of him, leaving him the only survivor.

He stopped, shaking, as the thing that killed them all slowly strode toward him. Fire flickered over his body, almost seeming to caress him. But his face was the worst. A face more suited to laughter was twisted in a hideous smile of savage glee. _He's enjoying it,_ the slaver thought, panicking.

It stopped, breathing heavily. To the slaver's horror, flames flickered at its mouth when it exhaled. "What are you?" the slaver asked, his imminent doom giving him a sense of reckless abandon.

The thing smiled horribly, the flames flickering over its body more quickly. "Death," it said.

Then the fire raced out and consumed him.

Link shook his head to clear it, choking at the stench of burnt flesh. A charred skeleton lay beside him, the sword in its hand reduced to a lump of slag.

Sera rolled over next to him, coughing weakly. Link reached over and helped her to her feet. He looked around, surveying the scene of devastation.

An entire swath of the village had been completely incinerated. The houses were simply gone, and even the ground itself was charred and blackened.

Firebrand sat in the center of the devastation. The savage glee was gone from his face. Now he just looked…tired.

Link cautiously walked over to his friend. "Firebrand?"

Firebrand's head snapped up, eyes filled with fear. _Now they know. Now he'll run away, all of them will, even Zelda, because you're a monster and should be alone…_

"What was that?" Link asked. His face was drawn and tense, and he held a knife in his hand. A precautionary measure that, at the time, seemed perfectly reasonable.

"I burned them," Firebrand replied.

Zelda swallowed, blood draining from her face. What kind of dark power did he possess? And, more importantly, would he use it on them?

Firebrand looked around, panic flowering in his breast. They were scared of him. Now it would all happen again, and this time there would be no going back. "I…It's not my fault," he said brokenly. "It's just…"

He fell silent. He couldn't explain it. No explanation would suffice.

"What are you?" Link asked, a dangerous edge in his voice.

Firebrand straightened his back. _Here it comes. This is the part where I run, before they decide to kill me._

No. No more running. He was sick of running. Whether they killed him or not, he would stand and take it. "I am a man," he replied. "Not a demon, or a slave to darkness. Just a man with a terrible burden."

Link stared at him for a second, and sheathed the knife. "Well don't share it with us," he spat.

And they walked away.


	29. Ashes

Link stomped through the village, leaving Firebrand behind in the scorched wasteland of his own creation. Sera trailed behind him, and, more uncertainly, Zelda.

"I don't like this," she finally said. "He saved us. I don't care how he did it, but he _did._ Leaving him isn't right."

"I don't like it either," Link murmured. "But he's dangerous. Even if he _could_ control it…"

He quickly pulled aside one of the villagers and talked quietly with him for a moment. The answer seemed to satisfy him, as he turned and continued walking. "The person I wanted to meet here left on an errand to Belmange. We should be able to intercept him on the way there. And then we could…"

His voice trailed off. She was right. What the hell was he doing? Firebrand may have transformed most of the village into ash, but was anyone harmed? Aside from the slavers, of course.

"I don't care what you think," Zelda said. "It's not right to leave him. Not after all he's done for us. For you, especially."

Link winced. Her words found their way right into the center of all his doubt and confusion, bringing up the same argument he himself had used in his decision.

Link bowed his head. If that was true, then he had just made a very big mistake.

Without another word, he turned and looked around for Firebrand, already putting together an apology.

But he was already gone.

Firebrand wandered aimlessly out of the village. He had no destination.

It had happened again. One look at what he could do, and they cast him out like some worthless criminal. Once again.

Why? Why was it that people could turn so quickly? Friends one moment, brutal enemies the next? He had done nothing wrong. Why did he deserve this curse?

_I am not a curse,_ the other half of his mind whispered. _I am part of you, a product of your own rage._

Firebrand gritted his teeth. The fire was getting more restless. It had gotten to the point where he was afraid it could seize control. _Screw you!_ he thought back. _You outsmarted me this time, but it won't happen again! _

No more submission. Not even if his life was in danger. The fire only wanted to destroy. It was almost beyond Firebrand's capabilities to prevent it from incinerating the entire village and everyone in it, innocent or not.

Sighing, Firebrand snapped his fingers, a small flame dancing above his hand. It was one of the few things he could do without submitting to the fire. Even with this simple magician's trick, the fire stirred in his head, throwing itself against the barricades in his mind.

Firebrand clenched his fist, snuffing the small flame out. If only he could do that to the fire. If only anything was so simple.

Link stood, staring at the spot previously occupied by his friend. A small seed of guilt began to grow and fester inside his chest. In retrospect, his response to Firebrand's…abilities seemed hypocritical at best. Firebrand hadn't even really blinked when Link revealed his ability to bend the world around him, but Link responded to pyrokinesis with outright distrust and hostility.

_Yeah, but teleporting isn't dangerous!_

_Shut up!_

For the first time in his life, Link shoved duty aside and walked back into the village, searching for one of the only friends he had ever had.

His anger still simmered, though. It was at the point that when he actually met Firebrand, any apology he might have had evaporated.

Firebrand looked over, expression souring once he saw Link. "The hell do you want?" he snapped.

Link ignored him. "All right, Firebrand. I'm going to give you a chance."

Firebrand's jaw dropped open. He had been expecting further challenges, or banishment, or _something._ Nobody had ever given him a second chance.

"All I want is an explanation," Link said. "I don't know what happened back there, and I'm not sure I care. What worries me, though, is if that was you."

Zelda directed a worried glance toward Link. "It wasn't him. It couldn't have been."

Uncertainty flickered across her face. "Right?"

Link turned his intense blue eyes on Firebrand. "Well?"

Firebrand looked around. "Not here. Do you have somewhere more, you know, private?"

"No," Link said. "Explain now."

Firebrand sighed. "Get comfortable. It's a long story."

He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "I'm sorry to say this, but what you saw there was me. I wish it was someone else living in my head, but it was all me."

"I lived in a small village. Pretty out of the way, near the borders of the kingdom. More often than not, tax collectors completely forgot about us."

He chuckled darkly. "Funny, that. In the same way being out of the way was great, it sucked when the Ferusari came in for the Great War. We were their first stop, and we were so far out of the way, nobody came to help."

He shook his head. "It wasn't even a fight. We just surrendered. Better to be slaves than dead, right? That's what my family thought, at least. Personally, I wanted to go down fighting than just surrender. Unfortunately, the rest of them didn't share my feelings."

His eyes grew distant and cold. "So I took matters into my own hands. I waited until they let their guard down, grabbed a weapon and went to work."

He grinned mirthlessly. "I killed twenty-seven of them. The first one was difficult, but it just got easier after that. They didn't even have time to wake up. I went up to them and cut their throats in their sleep."

"Did it not occur to you that they might not take kindly to that?" Zelda asked, tight-lipped.

Firebrand winced. "They didn't."

He swallowed, and blinked a couple times. "I don't like talking about this," he said by way of explanation. "I've never talked about it before, actually."

He took a deep, shuddering breath. "They figured out it was me. Ordinarily, they'd just kill me. I know some of them wanted to. Instead, they made me watch."

Firebrand placed his head in his hands. "They made me watch while they killed everyone from the village, starting with my family. Everyone I knew and loved, dead. Because of me."

"They left me in the ruins of what used to be my home, with nothing but the knife they used to slaughter my family. I guess the intention was that I use it for personal reasons."

His voice hardened. "But I didn't. I felt nothing but rage. They took away everything I knew. My entire life went up in flames that day. And then…something took over."

His head snapped up, a horrible, manic glee dancing in his eyes. "I hunted them down. And I killed them all. Every last one of them."

He stood up, spittle flying from his lips. "They all burned in the flames of my rage. All except the man leading them. The one I hate to this day."

The glee vanished from his eyes, replaced by a sort of quiet contemplation. "When I killed the slavers before, I felt a hint of remorse. What gave me the right to take their lives? But when I burned them, I felt nothing. No remorse, no glee. Nothing. It was simply something that needed to be done."

"Afterwards I didn't really know what happened. It was like a fog, or something. I wandered for a bit, and finally found a home in another village. It was in one of the rare corners untouched by the Great War, and they welcomed me with open arms. But something was different. For one thing, fire would act all crazy whenever I was near it. Candles would burn much higher, and campfires would turn into bonfires. Nobody really made the connection, until I accidentally burnt down half the village."

"They found me in the haybarn, or at least what was left of it, completely untouched by the blaze. I had a flame hovering over my hand, and was trying to get rid of it. They weren't too friendly after that."

"Eventually, my life turned into wandering from village to village. I eventually figured out how to control the fire, and it worked, for a time. But it stopped working with me. It would slip around me, try to do what _it_ wanted to do. It got to the point where it became almost another voice in my head."

Firebrand tapped a temple. "After a while, I figured out that it wasn't another person. It was still me, just me twisted by rage that never faded. I still don't know where the fire came from, but the other me is in control of it. And all it wants to do is destroy. It would, if I let it."

He shuddered slightly. "What you saw back there is the smallest fraction of what I can unleash. Don't ask me how I know this, but I have the capability to lay waste to an entire city."

He looked over at Link. "Generally, I can keep it under control. Perform a few tricks, and limit it to that. But lately, it's been growing more animated. More aggressive. I can keep it down, but in times of severe stress, I don't think I can guarantee that anymore."

"It's a terrible burden that I have," he finished. "But it's mine to carry. You shouldn't have to worry about it. Maybe I _am_ better off alone."

Firebrand fell silent. He noticed that Zelda was crying quietly. He sighed inwardly. _I swear, she's really too emotional. And I don't like seeing her like that._

Link swallowed. "I'm sorry," he managed. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea what you went through. And you saved our lives, in spite of what you knew would happen."

Firebrand looked over, a wry smile twisting his lips. "What can I say? My conscience's a bitch."

Link's mouth quirked in a smile. "Who cares? Point is, I was wrong to slap you in the face after all you've done for me. And the rest of us. We owe you our lives."

Firebrand shook his head. "Link, all I did was repay a debt I had to you. My life was spiraling out of control. All that really mattered anymore was sex and booze. Booze quieted the fire for a bit. But not all the time. The only way to keep it quiet was to stay drunk. That's not a life. I realized that."

He slid his sleeve up, showing Link a ragged scar on his wrist. It ran across the belly of his arm, from wrist to elbow. It was a miracle he didn't bleed to death from it. "I did that a couple weeks before you showed up," Firebrand said quietly. "Couldn't stand the fire anymore. I couldn't think of any other way to shut it up."

Link blinked, surprised. Firebrand hadn't seemed like he was in _that_ much trouble. To be honest, he'd looked quite happy.

Firebrand grinned mirthlessly, as if reading Link's thoughts. "I have a bad habit of hiding behind a happy-go-lucky mask. Fools everyone."

"What gives you reason to live now?" Link asked quietly.

Firebrand shrugged. "First off, you showed me that things could always be worse. Here you were, with no memory, or even the vaguest idea who you were, trying to deal with random fragments, and you still managed to keep going. Beside that, my issues were stupid at best. And then there's…"

He hesitated for a moment, glancing at Zelda. "Other things."

Link debated asking him what the other things were for a moment, but decided to let that one go. Everyone had his or her privacy. It wasn't his place to pry into Firebrand's.

Link stood. "You're wrong about carrying your burden alone. That's what friends are for. If you want, we can shoulder it for you. Or go your own way. It's entirely up to you."

Firebrand grinned. "Always better to have someone give you a hand than do something alone. I think I'll keep tagging along."

Link clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Good to have you along, buddy."

**For those of you returning to this story, I took the next eight chapters off for a reason. I didn't like them, and am currently getting around to subjecting them to extensive editing. Not now. I will eventually.**

**And here comes the part that I know all of you will hate. The message that all fanfiction readers know all too well, and dread just the same. The hated hiatus message. I don't have writer's block. Far from it. I just have too much going on right now to worry about a story. I _will_ continue this eventually, but for now, I'm not.**

**I don't have a specific timeframe, or anything, but it probably won't be longer than a couple months.**

**For the moment, don't worry. I will finish this.**

**A true hero finishes the fight.**


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